Gravity Falls: A Jersey Girl's Tale
by Anonymous Traveler
Summary: Isannah wanted to get away from home and live a new life. But she got more than she bargained for when she signed up as a tenant for the Mystery Shack. And with a summer semester of college, twin siblings to watch, and a cranky great-uncle who doesn't seem to have a clue, it'll take a lot faith for Isannah to live (and survive) in Gravity Falls. Isannah is my O/C. No Pine-Cest!
1. Prologue

Prologue

Ah, summer break. A time for leisure, recreation, and taking 'er easy. Unless you're me.

_Scene_: CRASH! A golf cart crashes through a large sign displaying "Welcome to Gravity Falls." The three passengers on board, two tweens and an older teenager, scream as they fly through, land twenty below, veer over small slope and continue driving and screaming into a forest. Behind them, an enormous unidentifiable monster shoves trees to the ground in pursuit of them.

"It's getting closer!" cries a girl in the front seat. As a boy in the front seat next to her continues driving on a path cut through the woods, the monster tromps after them. It tries to grasp the vehicle, but continually misses. The golf cart veers over a pile of rocks and flies twirling into the air, but lands safely and continues driving down the path and away from the oncoming threat behind them.

My name is Isannah. The kid driving us is Dipper, and the girl about to puke is his sister, Mabel. You may be wondering what we're doing in a golf cart fleeing from a creature of unimaginable horror.

_Scene_: The said monster of unimaginable horror picks up a pine tree and throws it over the cart and onto the path ahead, blocking further access.

"Look out!" Mabel cries. The three of them scream as Dipper veers all over the road, trying to avoid a collision with the felled tree.

_-FREEZE FRAME-_

Rest assured, there is a perfectly logical explanation.

_-cue Gravity Falls theme song-_

_A/N: Yes, I did just use the first scene of the first episode to start the story. It seemed fitting (besides, it was so much easier than being creative and coming up with my own idea). The rest of the story, as implied, will take place within the actual episodes of Gravity Falls. Let's face it, we want to be a part of the story too. Don't expect anything to be too radically altered from the original (but I'm not making any promises :) )._ AIFKU PDA OPKNU!


	2. Ch 1: Tourist Trapped: Trust No One

Chapter 1: Tourist Trapped: Trust No One

Let's get properly acquainted. I am Isannah Tannenbaum, a nineteen-year-old college student with no idea of what I want to do with the major I plan to graduate in. You could miss me in a crowd, because I look like any other blonde haired, green-eyed Pennsylvania Dutch girl. I moved to New York when I was eight, and then later to New Jersey when I was about sixteen. I've been a Jersey girl ever since, and it's a bad as they say.

Last fall I had been what my parents always wanted me to be: a responsible adult. I got a job the previous summer, got enrolled in a state college, and had a growing savings account. Everything was as they had wanted for me. Until I did some things that they didn't want. Like:

-Decide to work the spring semester instead of continuing to stay in school and study

-Use the money I saved to buy a plane ticket rather than something "useful" like a car

-Want to switch schools and enroll for a summer semester on the other side of the country, in the middle of Oregon

-Make them unhappy about my decision and not consulting with them about it.

As random as the idea sounded to my parents, the way I found it was even more random. I was skimming through my e-mail too quick and accidentally clicked on one of those e-mails that colleges will spam you with when they want and hope for you to check them out. After clicking on it, I would have just deleted it and be done with it, but the description of it intrigued me. It was a tiny school, located near a tiny town that not even Google Maps could locate, it offered the only degree that I truly wanted (English), and it was in the middle of nowhere, far from my parents.

I don't hate my parents. I love them, and my brothers. But I'm nineteen, I can do things for myself, and I just felt like I had to "escape" them. I have my reasons, but they're a little more personal than that. I obviously didn't tell my parents that _this_ was one of the reasons why I wanted to move across the country on my own. I told them another reason, and this one above all else convinced them to let me go: I was called by God to go there.

That isn't a lie. I really did feel like God wanted me to go there, like He was whispering _"I want you here. This is where your life will begin."_ My parents, being a pastor and a pastor's wife, totally believed me and reluctantly agreed to let me go, on the condition that I would call them every morning and evening, and would e-mail or else video message them as well. They also needed to know where I would be living, who my academic adviser was, and when I told them that the only place that was renting any rooms was a single room in a shady place called the Mystery Shack, they had to e-mail and call the man in charge, and talk with his relatives to feel comfortable with me staying there. "Oh, come on," I said. "It's not like the guy does anything illegal." Boy, did I have it coming.

So long story a little shorter, before I knew it, I was waving good-bye to my brothers and parents (who were still uncomfortable with me going so far from them), boarding a couple of planes across the country to the West Coast, and then taking a bus to the old mining town of Gravity Falls, Oregon. I was planning on finding a job as soon as I got there, and maybe if I wanted to complete my education there, I would stay. And never come back.

When I got to Gravity Falls, it was what I was expecting and at the same time not. I mean it was as stereotypical as a sleepy rundown town could get, but when I followed a twin brother and sister out of the bus and formally met Mr. Stanford Pines, I would soon find that this place was beyond the bounds of stereotyping nonconformity.

Mr. Stanford Pines, the great-uncle of the twin siblings, Dipper and Mabel, had actually forgotten that I was coming this summer and so drew up a lease for me to sign as the new tenant on the spot. When I saw the price that he was asking for, I knew that my limited funds couldn't afford it. So he cut me a deal: as long as I worked in his tourist trap the Mystery Shack (which I thought at first said "Mystery Hack" because the S was missing) and watched his grand-nephew and grand-niece, I would have the privilege of living there and cooking, cleaning, and being generally a maid there. I would still get a minimum wage of fifty cents an hour (plus tax), just enough to buy personal items and school materials. I knew from just looking at the one main street in town that this place was a stranger to Day Inns and apartments. With little choice, I signed the hastily scribbled binding document. When I walked inside and saw all the taxidermed animals with mismatched anatomies, runic lettering chiseled into the door frames and walls, and overpriced merchandise, I felt my gut drop.

"You're the first ever leased tenant in the famous Mystery Shack," said Stan with satisfaction as I followed him and the twins inside. "Congratulations!"

_I just made the worst mistake of my life, _I thought.

The first few days working in the Mystery Shack were just a little unnerving, to say the least. I mean, I didn't really trust Dipper and Mabel's Great-Uncle Stan, or "Grunkle Stan" as they called him. Not just because he was an obvious conman, but also because of the weird things he put inside the Mystery Shack. How was I to know if some the merchandise or tourist attractions weren't illegal? Besides, he was also a member of the Lodge. I couldn't say that I truly trusted people of the Lodge, and not just because I'm a Christian. Any place hiding too many secrets seemed too shady for me to be comfortable around ( there's my parents influence on me showing). Also, after I admitted that I was a Christian, he didn't seem too keen on trusting me either. I still had to watch the kids, but he looked at me warily. I could guarantee him the feeling was mutual.

What definitely made things easier, or at least a little less painful, was the fact that the Pines twins were suffering the same as I was, or at least Dipper was. Mabel was his fun-loving, fun-making sister who wore sweaters of all colors, styles, and materials, and when she saw that I had packed toe socks in my luggage and had a stranger taster in clothing that she did, we found a common thread. She just saw nothing dislikeable about the place she and her brother were shipped to for the entire summer, and was even more optimistic that I've been known for by my high school friends back home. I guess she was also pretty psyched about having me to do makeovers with (_not_ my favorite activity), to style my hair ( my _very_ favorite activity), and to sort of be like an older sister for the summer. She even dubbe me her "Summer Sister." Dipper was a more serious but awkward guy, who's trademark was a green baseball cap with a star stitched into it. He didn't share her enthusiasm and was having trouble adjusting as much as I was. They both had to work in the Shack like I did, but while she was so cheerful about meeting new people (particularly of the masculine persuasion), he just thought about how unfair it was that his great-uncle was by-passing child labor laws by having his family do work unpaid. He also wasn't thrilled that he was twelve years old and had to be babysat (or that the goat that lived on the grounds of his great uncle's business enjoyed eating everything that belonged to him). I could guarantee him the feeling was mutual.

I don't even need to go into detail about the college I enrolled in, Gravity Falls Community College. It was really just an ancient one-room schoolhouse with about five local students, and about ten professors. Each professor would have to wait their turn to give their lectures, and even then they only allow themselves to teach an entire class a day. I'm not complaining about that at all; the place has no air conditioning.

So, yeah, this was going to be my life for the whole summer. It seemed like both me and Dipper were going to be stuck with the most boring and tedious three months of our lives, until one fateful day.

"He's looking at it! He's looking at it!" Mabel whispered excitedly behind a shelf of Stanford Pines bobble heads ( those are easier on the eyes the real Stan, by the way). I was sweeping the remnants of a broken snow-globe, and out of curiosity decided to see who her latest victim was: another boy who was reading a note she left on a barrel by a shelf. The boy read the note out loud.

"Uh... 'Do you like me?'" and then he read the choices given to him below the question. "'Yes. Definitely. Absolutely?'" He glanced around nervously, and I had to stifle a giggle and a roll of my eyes.

"I rigged it," Mabel said with triumph.

"Mabel," called her brother, who was wiping a jar of eyeballs. "I know you're going through your whole 'boy crazy' phase, but I think you're kinda overdoing it with the crazy part."

"Wha-aaat?" she asked, blowing a cross-eyed raspberry in reply to what she perceived to be an absurd answer. "Come _on_, Dipper! This is our first summer away from home. It's my big chance to have an Epic Summer Romance."

"Yeah, but do you need to flirt with _every_ guy you meet?" he asked.

I personally flashbacked to all the moments she flirted with every boy she met here in town:

-The first poor soul was a customer in the Mystery Shack."My name is Mabel, but you can call me 'The Girl of Your Dreams.' I'm joking!" she shoved the guy she was addressing into the rack of postcards he was looking at, and he collapsed into it while she continued to laugh at her own joke. (I wasn't pleased to have to clean and rearrange that rack.)-

-We were in the park, and there was a boy was sitting on a bench, with a turtle in his lap, when she popped behind him. "Omigosh, you like turtles? I like turtles too! _What is happening here_?"-

-I don't remember why, but we were in a mattress store, and there was a guy dressed like a medieval prince and standing next to a group of balloons taped to a SALE sign, advertising for the store.

"Come one, come all," he called. "To the Mattress Prince's Kingdom of Savings!"

Mabel appeared between the balloons and whispered to him, "Take me with you." Of course, he screamed.-

"Mock all you want, brother," said Mabel in the present time. "But I got a good feeling about this summer. I wouldn't be surprised if the man of my dreams walked through that door _right now_." She confidently pointed back to the museum entrance that lead into the gift shop where we were.

Sure enough, through the entrance walked... Grunkle Stan, with some arrow signs under one arm, and a Pitt soda gut, belching, and regretting the heartburn he must have been feeling now. "BLECH! Ah, that's not good!"

"Ohhh, why?" asked a disgusted Mabel, while Dipper and I laughed. "Someone call a doctor," I called, emptying a dust pan of broken glass, "because I think that Stan _and _Mabel are gonna be sick!"

"Alright alright, look alive people!" commanded Stan. "I need someone to go hammer up these signs in the spooky part of the forest."

"Not it!" replied Dipper, Mabel, and I almost simultaneously.

"Ah... also not it," said another employee with beaver teeth and a heavy figure who was drilling a new shelf into the wall.

"Nobody asked you, Soos," replied the sarcastic manager.

"I know," Soos replied. "And I'm comfortable with that." He took a bite out of a chocolate bar in his hand.

"Wendy," Stan called to the girl behind the cash register. "I need you to put up this sign!"

Wendy, a red-head sixteen-year-old, who had her feet propped up on the registering desk, was reading a magazine, and looking bored out her mind. "I would, but I... can't... reach it," she said, not looking up, and pretending to straining to reach the signs.

"I'd fire all of you if I could," remarked Stan. "Alright, let's make it, eenie, meenie, minee... You!" He pointed to Dipper.

"What?" asked Dipper incredulously. "Grunkle Stan, whenever I'm in those woods, I feel like I'm being watched."

"Uhh," sighed Stan. "This again."

"I'm telling you, something weird is going on in this town. Just today my mosquito bites spelled out 'BEWARE.'" He pulled back his short sleeve, revealing the mosquito message.

"That says 'BEWARB,'" his great-uncle replied, still weirded out all the same.

Dipper glanced at the red bites, and scratched them apprehensively. I agreed with Dipper; there was something a little unnatural about this whole palce. _Maybe mosquitos are poor spellers,_ I thought. I was positive that mine were spelling "WATOH OVT."

"Look kid," Stan said, "the whole 'monsters in the forest thing' is just local legend, drummed up by guys like me, to sell merch to guys like that." He gestured to a tourist, who was holding a Stanford Pines bobble head, and looking way too excited about it.

"So quit being so paranoid," was Stan's final word to Dipper, as he tossed him the signs and left him to his task. Dipper sighed and went outside to get to work.

As he exited, I placed the broom and dustpan back in a closet, and Stan came up behind me and asked, "Isannah, you busy?"

I was surprised but recovered. "Um, not at the moment, why?" I was afraid of what task my honesty was gonna land me with.

"Follow Dipper."

"Why?" In the first week we've lived here, he knew those woods better than I did.

"Because as much as I want the kid to build character at the risk of whatever trauma he may suffer, I don't want him to get lost in the process." It was the first caring sentence he ever uttered about his family's welfare. "Also, you're under a contract to watch and protect him, so get to it."

I resigned to the task, then Mabel said. "I'll help. I can track Dipper like a bloodhound can track a trail a blood."

"That's comforting," I replied. Then Mabel paused as another guy stepped into the gift shop. "But first, I've got a heart to steal." She headed in the poor boy's direction. I sighed and went outside, following the path that Dipper took, into the spooky part of the forest.

I couldn't blame Dipper for feeling spooked about this forest. I've seen woods just as skin-crawling as the ones around the Mystery Shack. Back in New Jersey, there's The Pine Barrens, an area of pine forests situated in the middle of southern New Jersey and composed of wildlife reserves, parks, and historic ghosts towns. Local legend claimed that a monster known as the Jersey Devil lurked there, and considering that the whole area is largely unpopulated, heavily forested, and very shadowy and dark, it wouldn't surprise me if something did lurk in the pine boughs.

The sky was a bleak color, and the pines swayed ominously. Dipper morosely hammered signs on the surrounding trees leading to the Shack.

"Ugh, Grunkle Stan," muttered Dipper, hammering another nail into a tree trunk. "Nobody ever believes anything I say." He hung a sign advertising the Mystery Shack on the nail, and sullenly walk to another one.

He pounded a nail on a moldy tree trunk, but was surprised when the hammer on the nail cause the trunk to make a sound. A sound like a metallic echo. He then removed the nail, and pressing his ear to the trunk, tapped the hammer on the trunk several times, listening to the sound. He felt the surface of the trunk, and found it to be dusty and smooth, and pulled back what seemed to be the edge of bark, but instead found it to be a tiny door, like that of a locker. Behind the door, were cobwebs, and a strange rusty computing device, with buttons, switches, and a cracked screen. Dipper glanced around, making sure that no one was in sight. He then tried moving one of the switches, and then tried the other. Behind him, a well hidden door in the ground opened up. He turned around, and walked up to it.

"What the-?" He looked in the hole in the ground. Inside, dressed in cobwebs and crawling with millipedes, was a dusty book. Dipper removed the book from inside, blew the dust off the cover, and saw on the cover a golden six fingered hand with a "3" pressed in the palm.

He placed the book on the ground, making sure that no one was around to watch him, and opened the book. On the inside of the cover, he saw the owner of the book had been blotted out, and found a monocle, but placed it back inside, and flipped to the first page, covered in cursive writing. The date was marked June 18th. He read:

"'It's hard to believe it's been six years since I began studying the strange and wondrous secrets of Gravity Falls, Oregon." He flipped the page, and found the other page with a photo and drawing of eyes and something about "floating eyeballs," while the page next to it was about giant vampire bats. He flipped to another page which featured information about gnomes, and still another about "cursed doors."

"What is all this?" he asked himself, flipping page after page. "'Unfortunately my suspicions have been confirmed,'" he read. "I'm being watched. I must hide this book before He finds it. Remember- in Gravity Falls, there is no one you can trust.'" Written underneath in large print was the repeated message: TRUST NO ONE!

Dipper closed the book. "'No one you can trust,'" he quoted thoughtfully.

"HELLO!" shouted Mabel and I cheerfully behind him on a rotten log, laughing at his reaction. Dipper gasped in surprise, fumbled the book in his hands, and caught and grasped it tightly. Mabel caught up with me on the trail a half hour later, and we both plotted to scare him in the most natural way possible. I couldn't help myself. The sister in me loves causing trouble for all brothers. "Whatcha reading? Some nerd thing?" asked his sister.

"Uh-uh," Dipper turned to face us, hiding the book behind him. "It's nothing!"

"'Uh-uh, it's nothing,'" she mimicked him, and laughed. "Are you actually not gonna show us?"

"Uh," Dipper glanced the goat who used to live in the attic room that currently belonged to him and Mabel, chewing on a corner of the book binding. "Let's go somewhere private."


	3. Ch 2: Tourist Trapped: The Normal Man

Chapter 2: Tourist Trapped: The "Normal Man"

"It's amazing!" exclaimed Dipper. "Grunkle Stan said I was being paranoid, but according to this book, Gravity Falls has this secret dark side."

"Whoa," replied his sister, awed. "_Shut. _UP." She shoved the book in fake disbelief. We were in the living room on the other side of the Mystery Shack that was our residence, and while I was sipping a bottle of water, Dipper was exposing his discovery of the journal in the woods.

"And get this!" he continued. "After a certain point, the pages just stop, like the guy who was writing it mysteriously disappeared."

"This is some mad crazy stuff, dude," I commented. "Say, this is book could help me with my education."

"What do you mean?" asked Dipper, closing the book.

"Well, I have an essay to write for my history class, and if this book mentions anything pertaining to the history of this town, then I could-"

"No! You can't tell anyone about this book," answered Dipper.

"Why not?" I asked.

"Iz, you have to understand, this is __top secret__. The author of this book said 'In Gravity Falls, there's _no one_ you can trust.' We can't risk that the wrong person might try to get this book from us."

"Don't worry, I won't tell a living soul," I assured Dipper. "I won't even write about it in my journal. My mind is a closed book."

A doorbell rang. "Who's that?" asked Dipper. We never got visitors to the actual house part of the Shack.

"Well, time to spill the beans," said Mabel from her position on the arm of an easy chair. She reached her finger, said "Poke," and tipped over an empty bean can on the dinosaur skull that served as a TV table. "Beans."

__Typical Mabel, __I thought.

"This girl's got a date," she told us. "Whoo whoo!" She fell back on the couch with her braced smile beaming with self satisfaction.

"Let me get this straight," replied her brother with a "You-gotta-be-kidding-me" look on his face, "In the half hour I was gone, you already found a _boyfriend_?"

"What can I say?" replied Mabel, retracting back onto the arm of the easy chair. "I guess I'm just irresistible."

"Please assure me that he __isn't __some shady character from a suspicious side of town," I begged her. The doorbell rang again and again. "Oh! Coming!" she called, rushing to answer the door. As she left, Dipper sat in the chair himself, and reopened the journal. I took another swig from my water bottle, and contemplated this new situation. I personally didn't believe that kids Mabel's age should be dating. Nothing against twelve-year-olds, but at that age, no one is mature enough to handle a boy/girlfriend relationship.

"What cha reading there, Slick?" asked Grunkle Stan, who happened to walk by, drinking yet another Pitt soda can.

Dipper jumped at his sudden appearance. "Oh! I was just"-he stuffed the book under a pillow on the chair, and pulled a magazine lying on the dinosaur skull- "catching up on, uh..." He flipped the magazine to the cover page. "'Gold Chains for Old Men Magazine?'"

"That's a good issue," his great-uncle remarked. While Stan took a sip of his can, and Dipper flipped open the magazine, the three of us heard Mabel call "Heeeeeey, Family!" and turned towards the door way where she stood. I assumed she meant me as well, what being her "summer sister" and all.

"Say 'hello' to my new boyfriend!" she said. His back was turned to us, but he turned to face us upon introduction. I stared in shock, and my wrist slacked and water from my bottle spilled on the floor. He was a creepy hoodie with legs, half his deathly pale face shrouded in the shadow of his hood and his hair, and a voice that sounded too raspy for even a pubescent boy to possess. The left shoulder of his hoodie was torn, and a stick seemed to grow from the top of his hood like an antler. He struck me (and no doubt everyone else in the room) as somehow simply __unnatural__.

"'Sup?" he asked causally.

"Hey," replied Dipper uneasily.

"How's it hangin'?" replied Stan.

"You've got a stick in your head," was all I could think to say. Dipper and Stan looked at me, though not reproachfully. "You might want to get that checked, just saying." I just realized I had tipped my whole bottle on the floor, and was too self-conscience to say anything more.

"We met at the cemetery," Mabel explained. She rubbed her hand on his sleeve. "He's __so __deep. Ooo, little muscle there," she remarked in surprise. She pinched his sleeve, and got bashful. "What a surprise." Her boyfriend looked bored and somewhat annoyed.

I was about to ask what Mabel was doing in the cemetery (an obviously suspicious side of town) in the first place, but her brother beat me to the punch. "Soooo, what's your name?" asked Dipper, giving him a scrutinizing look. Stan just sipped his soda.

"Uh... normal... MAN!" he replied with a shifty look in his face.

"He's mean Norman," explained Mabel. She was totally enthralled, even while he continued giving an annoyed look.

"Are you bleeding, Norman?" asked Dipper, pointing to Norman's face. Sure enough, something red was oozing and dripping off his cheek.

Norman was unnerved. "It's jam," he replied.

Mabel gasped. "I __love__jam!" she exclaimed, giving him a shove. "_Look. At. This_." She gestured between the two of them.

_So __that's __how you're compatible,_ I remarked to myself, rolling my eyes. By now, Dipper was off the chair, clearly unhappy with the shady character who Mabel picked to be her date. Stan took his place on the couch, taking up the magazine of gold chains. Apparently that was more interesting to him.

"So, you wanna go, hold hands or, whatever?" Norman asked Mabel.

"Oh, oh my goodness," remarked Mabel, probably giddy with happiness. "Don't wait up!" she called to us, hurrying out of the door frame in the direction of the front door. Her boyfriend signaled "See ya around" to me and Dipper, then staggering, bumped and slumped his way through the hall to the front door. I heard several fragile objects shatter as they impacted the ground.

Dipper and I looked at each other, both thinking the same thing: something isn't right about "Norman."

I followed Dipper upstairs to an unused room in the attic, mostly empty except for a window seat and the red window pane shaped like the "all seeing eye." That window gave me the heebie-jeebies, but I followed Dipper in anyway, and read over his shoulder. We decided to consult the journal. If there was anything that could help us figure out a character like Norman in Gravity Falls, we figured that the journal could point us in the right direction.

He found a drawn picture of a decomposing figure rising from a grave, and read: "'Known for their pale skin and bad attitudes, these creatures are often mistaken for... teenagers!'" He exclaimed.

I read the rest of the passage. "'Beware Gravity Falls' nefarious...'"

We gasped. The drawn figure looked __exactly __like Norman!

"Zombie!" yelled Dipper. His voice echoed throughout the rafters of the house.

In a bathroom, Stan heard the exclamation. "Somebody say 'crombie?'" he asked, puzzled. "What is that, crombie? It's not even a word. You're losing your mind."

Meanwhile, back in the attic room, Dipper and I heard a sound like "unnhh" from outside, and looked out the window. On a picnic table outside the Mystery Shack, sat Mabel, while Norman was slowly approaching her, arms outstretched in the typical zombie pose. The undead sounds were coming from him.

"I like you," said Mabel in complete innocence as the apparent danger approached her face.

"Oh no! Mabel!" We screamed.


	4. Ch3: Tourist Trapped: When Gnomes Attack

Chapter 3: Tourist Trapped: When Gnomes Attack

"No, no, no, Mabel, WATCH OUT!" screamed Dipper."Let's throw something at him!" I called. I had grabbed a cardboard box and was ready to lunge it at the window and have it knock the zombie Norman over. Anything to stop him.

Dipper watched Norman reach Mabel.

He gasped in terror. Norman grabbed her shoulders.

Dipper screamed. I reeled the box back, about to warn him to stand aside from the window, when...

Norman stepped back, revealing the flower garland he had placed around Mabel's neck.

Mabel gasped slightly in response. "Daisies? You scallywag." She smiled.

I tossed the box away and Dipper stepped off the window seat, asking more to himself than to me, "Is my sister really dating a zombie, or am I just going nuts?"

"If it's any consolation, I was about to kill him with a cardboard box," I replied.

"But we're not crazy! Something's up with that guy, and I just wish we knew _what_," he replied.

"It's a dilemma to be sure." We both jumped and almost screamed at the sound and unprecedented appearance of Soos, screwing in a lightbulb into a hanging ceiling light. "I couldn't help but overhear you talking to yourselves in this empty room." Soos, both as an employee and a person in general, is a bit of an enigma. That's the only reason I can think of as to why he wears a T-shirt with an enormous question mark on it.

"Soos, you've seen Mabel's boyfriend," stated Dipper. "He's gotta be a zombie, right?"

"Hmmm." Soos contemplated the question carefully. Then he asked in all seriousness, "How many brains did you see the guy eat?"

Dipper, discouraged, replied. "Zero."

__I think I see Soos' point, __I thought. __The boyfriend is weird, but that's no reason to get paranoid.__

"Look dude," said Soos. "I believe you." (__OK, I completely __missed__his point,__I thought confused.) "I'm always noticing weird stuff in this town. Like the mailman; pretty sure that dude's a werewolf."

He personally flashed back to seeing said mailman while eating his lunch in the park, walking down his route. The guy was nothing but burly and red hair sprouting all over his face and body. Soos gave him glare and shifted slightly in his bench.

"But you gotta have evidence," Soos continued in the present time. "Otherwise people are gonna think you're a majorly koo-koo clock."

"As always Soos, you're right," resigned Dipper.

"My wisdom is both a blessing, and a curse."

Down the hall, an angry Grunkle Stan called, "Soos! The portable toilets are clogged again!"

Soos tightened the baseball cap on his head, and fixed a determined look on his face. "I am needed elsewhere." He backed into the narrow corridor, and left us alone in the empty room.

Dipper grabbed the journal, and closed it's cover. I could already tell what his next mission was now that he had an idea of what the perceived threat could be: to gather evidence. He went to walk out of the attic, and I followed after him to his room. But I wasn't completely on board with Soos' idea.

"I don't know about this, Dipper," I said, voicing my doubts. "I mean, the book seems to indicate that Norman is a zombie, but what if we're just blowing this all out of proportion-"

"Isannah," he replied. "Mable's in trouble, I can feel it. You've seen that guy. There's something unnatural about him. I'm positive that he's a zombie."

As a Christian, I believed in the supernatural as far as angels, demons, and divine Providence went, and was willing to believe pretty much anything. But zombies... I just seen that in _way _too many movies to find it truly credible.

"But we're just going by what some book says about zombies. For all we know, this journal could be just a fabricated relic hidden specifically so that it could just so happen to be found around the Mystery Shack, be put on display, and bring in more revenue for your great-uncle. __Nothing__written in those pages could be real."

"You believe in a book that has a lot of weird things to say too."

"The Bible is at least historically verifiable."

"Besides, there's no harm in testing the theory, is there? If there is any evidence whatsoever that doesn't support the theory that he's a zombie, I'll let it go." He sighed, and sat on the edge of his bed. "I just want Mabel to be safe."

The kid was serious about this. I never met a kid as convicted as he was of his fear for his sister.

"Look, I'm concerned about Mabel too." I sat next him on the bed. "If it means anything to you, I'll help you stalk and research the creepy boyfriend on my off time."

He looked up at me, with a question on his face. "You will?"

"Yeah, dude. I may be a summer sister, but I'm no fair weather friend." I held out a fist. "Let's get some." He smiled appreciatively and bumped it with his own. "Yeah."

I didn't tell him, but even though there was little except speculation to go on, I felt that there was something weird about Norman too. Maybe even dangerous. I was afraid to voice this thought, but I was worried that if we didn't keep an eye on Mabel's boyfriend, she wouldn't just be wearing daisies; she would be pushing up daisies as well.

Over the next couple of days, Dipper followed his sister and her boyfriend everywhere they went, recording everything they did, and making certain to keep special attention to Norman's actions and reactions. Between college work, putting hours in for the Mystery Shack, doing homework, I had a more difficult time up my end of the fist bump. I took the time though to ask Mabel where she and Norman were going for their third date, and was able to track them down to a creek. I was recording them with my phone, and saw Norman panic as he crossed the creek, as though he were drowning. The creek was only ankle deep. Norman wasn't doing it for laughs though. Mabel had to drag him out by the sleeve of his hoodie and the stick lodged in his hair to rescue him. I had seen enough.

On the last day that Mabel would be going out with Norman, I sat in her room reading some homework while she was busy brushing her hair and getting ready for their next date. I was just asking where she was going with him next, when Dipper walked into their bedroom, saying, "Mabel, we've got to talk about Norman," he said. He wasn't putting off the confrontation any longer. It was evident to me that he felt had enough proof to make a case against Norman. Figuring that he knew how to explain things to his sister better than I did, I left the matter up to him.

"Isn't he the best?" she asked. "Check out this giant smooch mark he gave me." On the right of her face, was a large red circle on her cheek. Dipper gasped in horror, and I just about screamed "WHAT DID THAT MONSTER DO TO YOU?!"

"Ha ha," she laughed. "Gullible. It was just an accident with the leaf blower."

She personally flashed back earlier, when she positioned the leaf blower that belonged to her great-uncle on a trash can. She switched it to suck, and flipped a photo of Norman over the nozzle, with his lips discreetly cut out. "Kissing practice," she said, and was leaning in to kiss the cut out lips, when the blower sucked in the photo, and consequentially, her lips as well. She panicked, and banging the leaf blower around, yelled through her sealed lips "Turn it off! Turn it off!"

"That was fun," she reminisced.

"No, Mabel, listen," interjected Dipper. "I'm trying to tell you that Norman is not what he seems." He removed the journal from inside his body warmer as he spoke.

Mabel gasped. "You think he might be a vampire?" she whispered. "That would be _so_ _awesome_!"

"How come we didn't think of that?" I asked him. "That's also a plausible guess."

"Guess again sister," replied her brother. "Sha-BAM!" He showed her a page about gnomes.

Mabel yelped, disgusted at the image. So was I. "Ew, it's cute," I remarked.

"Oh wait." He muttered "I'm sorry" as he rapidly flipped to the correct page about the undead. "Shabam."

"A zombie? That is not funny, Dipper." She gave him an offended look.

"I'm _not _joking," he exasperated, closing the book and replacing back inside his body warmer. "It all adds up: the bleeding, the limp. He never blinks! Have you noticed that?!"

"Maybe he's blinking when you're blinking," replied his sister.

"A fair point," I remarked.

"Mabel, remember what the book said about Gravity Falls?" He glanced behind him, and whispered, "'Trust no one.'"

"What about me, huh?" she asked him, not accusingly but rather like the thought was a silly notion. "Why can't you trust me?" She popped her favorite star earrings on her ears with a "Beep. Bop."

Dipper was desperate now. "Mabel!" He grabbed her shoulders and shook her. "HE'S GONNA EAT YOUR BRAIN!"

Mabel grabbed his hand to remove it from her arm, with a displeased countenance. "Dipper, listen to me." I had never seen her so serious or so angry before, and it almost scared me. "Norman and I are going on a date at five o'clock, and I'm gonna be adorable,"- she poke him in his chest to drive her point- "and he's gonna betray me"-she poked him again, shoving him out the door frame despite his protests- "and I'm not gonna let you ruin it with one of your crazy _conspiracies_!" She slammed the door on the last word.

Dipper turned away from the door, sat down and sighed. "What am I gonna do?"

Mabel was flustered but continued to get ready for her betrayal. I checked the time. 4:45. Not enough time to completely convince her. Besides, I was certain she would poke a finger in my gut and shove me out the door if I came on too strongly about Norman. So I helped her pick out an outfit to wear. I tried to ask her where she and Norman would be, but she ambiguously said "somewhere in the woods," and wouldn't tell me more than that. I left the room to read the rest of my chapter in the den.

As five o'clock chimed, the doorbell rang, and Mabel hurriedly pulled on her sweater, ran down the stairs, calling "Coming!"

She answered the door. "Hey, Norman. How do I look?" She was wearing a green skirt with a matching green headband, and a sparkly purple sweater with a cat's face on the front and the words "Meow Wow!" (that wasn't __my__idea).

"Shiny," he shrugged.

"Huh. You always know what to say." And with that, the two of them took hands and walked out into the spooky part of the woods.

Dipper was sitting despondently in the easy chair, holding his camera, watching his sister walk off with what he once thought was a monster. I sat on the floor, reading a textbook from an English course I was taking, also a little despondent. After reviewing my footage and some of his, Dipper and I were both fairly disappointed that all our spying and recording had been for nothing. I almost wanted Norman to be zombie.

"Soos is right," said Dipper after Mabel and Norman disappeared. "We don't have any __real__evidence." He was watching some of the scenes he had recorded, one of which where Mabel and Norman were playing hopscotch, with Norman falling flat on his face in his usual clumsy manner. "Eh, that kid had me going too," I admitted, trying to soften the blow of defeat. "I hate to admit it, but you really can't believe everything you read." I chuckled a bit. Dipper seemed to lighten a little. "I going to go check up on Wendy now. My break time is over, and that crowd isn't shrinking." I headed out the front door, to see if Wendy was around and needed help.

"Yeah," he agreed after I left."I guess I can be kinda paranoid sometimes, and-wait, WHAT?!"

He rewound the scene he was just playing:

Norman and Mabel were enjoying the wild scenery of the woods, with Norman's arm wrapped around her shoulder. But his hand from that arm was detached. He watched in shocked horror as he reached over (apparently, Mabel wasn't a keen observer) and put the disembodied hand back in place, and returned to watching the landscape with Mabel.

Dipper yelped and flipped so hard the chair fell back. He sprang back up. "I WAS RIGHT!" He ran out the front door. "Omigosh! Omigosh! Grunkle Stan! Grunkle Stan!" He headed toward the crowd of tourists gathered by a stage where Stan was speaking. "Grunkle Stan!"

"And here we have A Rock That Looks Like A Face rock," said Stan, showing a rock that looked like a face on a display stand. "_The rock that looks like a face_."

A tourist missing half a pinkie raised his hand. "Does it look like a rock?"

"No, it looks like a face," replied Stan.

"Is it a face?" asked another.

"It's a rock that __looks__like a face," emphasized Stan.

While the tourists continued to puzzle over the difficult concept of a rock that looks like a face but isn't a face, Dipper was running around the back of the crowd, too short to be noticed, and yelling for his great-uncle's attention. "Over here! Grunkle Stan!" He was pleading to be heard.

"For the fifth time," exasperated Stan. "It's-it's not an __actual__face!"

Dipper wasn't getting through to him, and he was running out of time. __Where's Isannah?__

Mabel and Norman were deep in the woods. All alone.

"Finally, we're alone," said Mabel with satisfaction.

"Yes," agreed Norman. "_Alone._"

I was refitting a sign that said "Rock That Looks Like A Face" that had fallen over, when Dipper came charging toward me.

"Iz! Iz! I was right!"

"Right about what? Norman?"

"YES! His hand fell off his arm-and-and-he put it back- and-I-I caught it on tape-but-but we have to SAVE MABEL!" He grasped my wrist with surprising strength for a twelve-year-old, and yanked me to follow him.

"Dipper, we know where she is, but it'll take too long for us to catch up to her in time," I replied. "We need some sort of transportation."

"Like what? A TAXI?" Just then, Wendy drove up in the golf cart used to scan the grounds of the property.

"WENDY!" called Dipper. He ran toward her, and I followed him. "Wendy!" She was exiting the vehicle with the keys to the cart in hand. "Wendy, I need to borrow the golf cart so I can save my sister from a ZOMBIE!" She smirked at him, while he waited for a response.

"It's __pretty__important," I assured her. But she dropped the keys in his hands without need of any explanation. She winked, said,"Try not to hit any pedestrians," and walked away. Dipper smiled in a way that was both relieved, and maybe a little crazy.

But before I could make any comment or question he jumped into the front seat, turned the key, and shifted into reverse.

"Hey dude, it's me, Soos" said the owner of the name, who happened to be there. Dipper parked the vehicle, and I climbed into the passenger seat.

"This is for the zombies," he explained, handing me a shovel.

"Thanks," replied Dipper, as I placed it behind our seats in the trunk of the cart.

"And this is in case you see a pinata," said Soos, handing me a bat.

I passed it on to the back, while Dipper said, "Uh... thanks?" He hit the accelerator and pedaled madly out of the parking lot.

"Better safe than sorry!" called Soos, but his voice was already fading as we hit break-neck speed to find a love-blinded twin, and a brain-thirsty zombie.

Alone in a spooky part of the woods, Norman, turned away from Mabel's innocent stare.

"Eh, Mabel," he addressed her. "Now that we've gotten to know each other, there's..." He fiddled with the zipper of his hoodie, let out breathe, before he continued. "There's something I should tell you." A breeze dramatically blew by.

"Oh, Norman," replied Mabel with caring concern in her voice. "You can tell me anything." __Please be a vampire! Please be a vampire!__

_"_Alright, just... just don't freak out, OK? Just-just keep an open mind. Be cool."

He unzipped his hoodie, and pulled it back, let it fall from his shoulders, revealing...

Five tiny men stacked on each other's heads. Two were holding out sticks for arms, and two were acting as feet, while the very top one was Norman's face. Or, whatever used to be Norman.

The top tiny man pulled back the hair that was always in his face. "Is this weird?" he asked. "Is this too weird? You need to sit down?"

Mabel stared, slack-jawed and speechless.

"Oh-er, right, I'll-I'll explain," the top man said. "Sooo, we're gnomes, first off. Get that one out of the way."

Mabel just said, "Uh..." an eye twitching, still not able to comprehend what just happened.

"I'm Jeff," he addressed himself, and gesturing to the rest in turn introduced: "And here we have Carson, Steve, Jason, and... I'm sorry! I always forget your name."

"Shmebulak," answered the one he addressed.

Jeff snapped his fingers in remembrance. "Shmebulak. Yes!" Mabel sat down on a rock, thoroughly disappointed with this discovery and sudden turn of events, slapping her forehead in disbelief, while Jeff continued his exposition. "Anyways, long story short, us gnomes have been looking for a new queen. Right, guys?" The rest of the gnomes chanted "Queen!" in response. "Heh, so what do ya say?" He tapped his foot on the left side, and the gnomes bent down like a proposing man on one knee. The right hand held out a shiny diamond ring. Jeff asked, "Will join us in holy matrinomy? Matri-matri-matri-_mo_-_ny_. Blah! I can't talk today!"

Mabel broke it to them. "Look, I'm sorry guys. You're really sweet, but I'm a girl, and you're gnomes, and it's like 'What?'" She paused. "Yikes."

The gnomes were all disheartened. "We understand," replied Jeff. "We'll never forget you, Mabel."

She smiled at the thought.

"Because we're gonna kidnap you."

"Huh?"

The gnomes attacked!

Mabel screamed.


	5. Ch4: Tourist Trapped: Gnome Weaknesses

Chapter 4: Tourist Trapped: Gnomes' Weakness

While we were speeding through the forest in the direction that Mabel took, I was asking Dipper a very monumental question: "Shouldn't __I __be driving?

"Does it really matter?"

"In case a state trooper pulls us over, I want us to at least have someone with a license behind wheel with a good explanation."

"What would we tell him? 'Sorry for speeding, officer. We're just in a big hurry because a twelve-year-old girl is about to be eaten by her ZOMBIE BOYFRIEND!'"

"You make it seem like the chance of getting pulled over is as ridiculous as the reason we're out here to begin with."

"But who's gonna stop us in the middle of th-"

We heard a scream.

"Don't worry Mabel!" Dipper shifted into high gear, and we somehow seemed to go faster than before, which I didn't think was possible. "We'll save you from that zombie!" We barreled in the direction of "HELP!" We heard her voice from the bottom of cliff, around a bend in the path.

"Hold on!" I called. We drove over the crest of a hill, but it turned into a steep pit, and we found ourselves driving into a tunnel, with glowing ethereal pools of water, mossy boulders, and spotted mushrooms. The air glowed with what seemed to be either fairies or fireflies. Dipper drove with steadfast determination, and we bumped our way through the tunnel into a clearing, where Mabel was struggling against a horde of... bearded doll-sized men in overalls with red caps?

"The more you struggle, the more awkward this is gonna be for everybody," said one of the tiny men. "Just- ho-oh-OK, just get her arm there, Steve."

One of the red caps was chewing on Mabel's arm, and she was trying to shake him off. "Let go of me!" She punched at him off, and he flew away in an arch of sparkles. She kicked another, and he flew the in same manner, and bounced a couple of times before uncomfortably landing. He held stomach, nauseated, and barfed a rainbow.

By now Dipper, holding the shovel, and I, bearing the bat, had disembarked from the golf cart, both with the same question: "What the __heck __is going on here?"

One of the men ran by and hissed at us, which surprised us. He kept running to join the others in the fray.

"Isannah! Dipper!" called Mabel. "Norman turned out to be a bunch of gnomes, and they're total jerks!" She punched at one, and in retaliation, he pulled her hair. "Hair! Hair! Hair!" she cried in pain.

"Gnomes?" Dipper pondered, pulling out the journal. "Huh, we were __way __off."

"__That __would explain the fear of drowning in shallow water," I reflected. Dipper flipped through the journal to the pages about gnomes. "'Gnomes: little men of the Gravity Falls Forest. Weaknesses: unknown.'"

"Uh, Dipper?" I pointed at Mabel, who was now subdued and tied to the ground, like a Gulliver in a land of Lilliputians. "Aw, come on!" she yelled in anger.

"HEY HEY!" he yelled at the gnome in charge. "Let go of my sister!"

The gnome turned. "Oh, heh heh, hey there! Um, you know, this is all really just a... big misunderstanding! You see, your sister's not in danger. She's just marrying all one thousand of us and becoming our gnome queen for all eternity." He turned to Mabel. "Isn't that right, honey?"

"You guys are _buttfaces_!" she yelled. One of the gnomes gagged her mouth to prevent her from yelling any more obscenities.

Dipper lifted the shovel. "Give her back __right now__, or else..."

"... You're gonna wish you knew a good doctor," I finished, brandishing the bat.

"You think you can stop us, humans?" asked the gnome. "You have no idea what we're capable of. The gnomes are a powerful race!" Dipper just glanced at me like "Is this guy for real?"

"Do not trifle with the-" Dipper then just scooped him up with the shovel, and threw him away like dirt. He ran to Mabel, and used the shovel to slice the binds that held her down. The gnomes were closing in to recapture her, but she kicked them aside before they could touch her. Taking Dipper's hand, they hurried to the golf cart. I turned the key in the ignition, and forgetting that it was still illegal, allowed Dipper to take his place in the front seat.

"He's getting away with our queen!" yelled the chief gnome. "No, no, NO!"

"Seat belt," Dipper reminded his sister, and he shifter the cart into reverse, and sped away, leaving the gnomes in the dust.

"You messed with the wrong creatures, boy," said the chief gnome darkly. "Gnomes of the Forest, ASSEMBLE!" From every crack and crevice of the tunnel, gnomes appeared. They began to stand each others shoulders, stacking up and interlocking their arms, and building themselves into a towering, opposing monster of unimaginable horror.

Meanwhile, Dipper was speeding the golf cart down the path. Mabel and I were kept glancing behind us, with the same obvious fear.

"Hurry, before they come after us," pleaded Mabel.

"I wouldn't worry about it," assured her brother. "You see their little legs? The suckers are tiny."

Just as he said that, we heard and felt a large __THUMP __bounce the cart. Dipper stopped. We heard another, this time closer. And another. _THUMP. THUMP. THUMP. THUMP._

"Can I worry now?" I squeaked fearfully. Dipper and Mabel turned around and saw what I was seeing. "Dang," said Mabel.

The tiny suckers had built themselves into one enormous, red, gnome monster.

"Alright, teamwork guys," called the lead gnome from the top of the monster's hat. "Like we practiced." Somehow, monster opened it's red bearded maw and roared. It lifted a fist with the intent of crushing us.

"Move. __Move__," warned Mabel. Dipper stepped on the gas, and sped us away. I watched as the fist half-disintegrated upon contact with the empty ground, and the scattered gnomes crawl back on and reassemble themselves. The monster got up and charged after us. "Come back with our queen!"

The cart bumped as it sped along the worn path. "It's getting closer!" said Mabel.

As the monster ran after us, it shot four gnomes from it's hand, sending them flying like bullets towards us. Seeing the incoming threat, I grabbed hold of the bat, and swatted the incoming gnome missiles away. One of the gnomes gripped himself to the bat, and hissed at me.

I yelled, "I'm gonna beat the candy out of you, evil pinata!" and slapped the bat with the demonic lawn ornament against the back of the golf cart until the little monster released his grip. One landed on the roof, and began to tear into it like a ravenous wolf. He then lifted itself down by Mabel's side of the cart, and she promptly punched him off. Another uglier one landed behind Dipper ready to bite his head, but Dipper grabbed him slammed him into the steering wheel of the cart, setting off the horn.

"Aw, Shmebulak," the gnome groaned. Dipper threw him into the horn again, and he bounced off and flew away behind the cart. Another leaped unto the front of the cart, and squealing some shrill demonic noise, attacked Dipper's face.

"I'll save you, Dipper," proclaimed his sister. She punched at the gnome until he flew off his face, taking his hat in his mouth with him.

"Thanks, Mabel," said a bruised and badly beaten Dipper. "Don't mention it," she replied.

The monster then picked up a pine tree and threw it. We stared as it flew over the cart and onto the path ahead, blocking further access.

"Look out!" Mabel cried. Dipper yelped, and applied the brakes, The three of us screamed as Dipper veered all over the road, trying to avoid a collision with the felled tree. He succeeded by finding a gap between the tree and the dirt road, but he ended up turning too sharply and the cart started to spin in circles, and with the combination of speed and weight displacement by me in the back, the cart flipped on its side and ceased to a halt beside the vacant Mystery Shack.

We crawled out, bruised and moaning. "Next time, __I'm __driving," I moaned. The monster walked to us, standing over us in triumph. "Stay back, man!" yelled Dipper at the gnomes. He threw the shovel, but the gnomes crushed it with a roar and a single punch to the ground. I looked at the bat in my hand, and dropped it in defeat. "So much for beating the candy out of them."

Dipper and Mabel held each other and screamed. "Uhh, where's Grunkle Stan?" asked Dipper.

Meanwhile, inside the Mystery Shack, Stan was showing a family of tourists one of his many attractions. "Behold, the World's Most Distracting Object." It was a spinning hypnotist wheel.

"Oooo," said the awed tourists, as Stan pulled a string that spun the wheel.

"Just try to look away," he challenged. "You can't!" The tourists gave him an blank stare. And as Stan stared into the wheel, he remarked, "I can't even remember what I was talking about."

Back outside, the monster cornered me and the twins up against the wall of the Shack. I tried to shield them from the towering red beast.

"It's the end of the line, kids," called the chief gnome. "Mabel, marry us before we do something crazy."

"They don't count trying to force a child into marriage and almost killing us as _CRAZY_?!" I exasperated.

"There's got to be a way out of this," said Dipper. As he was pulling out the journal, Mabel stepped forward and said with determination, "I gotta do it."

"What?! Mabel," Dipper whispered. "Don't do this, are you crazy?"

"Trust me," she whispered back.

"What?"

"Mabel, what are you thinking?" I asked her. "There has to be another solution."

"Guys," she addressed us. "Just this once, __trust me__."

Dipper looked up at the monster, and back at his sister, then resignedly stepped back and out of the way. __I hope you know what you're doing, __I thought as I joined him.

"All right, Jeff," called Mabel up to the gnome. "I'll marry you."

The monster stomped happily. "Hot dog!" said Jeff. He climbed his way down the towering gnome beast. "Help me down there, Jason. Thanks Andy- alright-left foot-there we go-watch those fingers, Mike." He appeared at the foot (literally) of the monster and ran over to Mabel, with a "heh heh heh," and bestowed to her the wedding ring. "Eh, eh?" he implored her. She accepted the ring with grace and dignity. She gazed at it almost with an appreciative air.

"Bud-a-bing, bud-a-bam! Now let's get you back into the forest, honey." He was ready to hurry off.

"You may now kiss the bride," she said.

None of us expected this, but Jeff said, "Well, eh, don't mind if I do." He pursed his lips to kiss her and I thought I would gag.

Mabel pursed her own lips in preparation, but furtively switched on the leaf blower behind her to suck, and pointed it at Jeff.

Jeff realized the danger, and tried to back away. "Hey-hey, wait a minute! Eh-"

Dipper and I stared in disbelief of Mabel's resourcefulness, and the gnomes in the monster gasped at the turn of events. That suddenly gave me an idea.

"Whoa-whoa-whoa-what's going on?" Jeff exclaimed, trying to escape the pull of the leaf blower. He struggled and clung to the grass, but was sucked screaming into the nozzle. "That's for lying to me," said Mabel. She then shifter the leaf blower to more power. "That's for breaking my heart." Jeff was about to be sucked completely inside the nozzle. "Ow! My face!" he cried.

"And this is for messing with my family," she finished looking at her brother. She aimed the nozzle at the gnome monster. The monster got a worried look.

"Wanna do the honors?" she asked Dipper.

"On three," Dipper commanded. "One, two, three!" Dipper shifted the leaf blower from suck to blow, and Jeff shot out of the nozzle like a cannonball and shot through the monster of the gnome army, destroying it. As Jeff flew away, he yelled, "I'llllll get you for thissssss!"

The sky rained gnomes. "Who's giving orders?" asked one. "I need orders."

"Here's one!" I yelled, spraying the gnomes with ice-cold water from a hose I remembered that was stored behind the house. "Go home and barf rainbows, you __disgustingly __cute lawn ornaments!" I gave some others a good soaking.

"My arms are tired," complained another gnome. Mabel turned the leaf blower on them, blowing them away from the Mystery Shack.

"Anyone __else __want some?" asked Dipper. But they fled away, hopping into the trees like wet rabbits. One of them though got tangled in a plastic soda pop can holder, and was stuck until the Mystery Shack goat grabbed one of the plastic rings in his teeth, and leaped away with the gnome screaming.

With leaves in our hair, we went to rest by the front steps of the gift shop.

"Hey Dipper," called Mabel. "I, um, I'm sorry for ignoring your advice. You really were just looking out for me."

"Oh, don't be like that," replied her brother. "You saved our butts back there."

"I guess I'm just sad that my first boyfriend turned out to be a bunch of gnomes."

"Look on the bright side. Maybe the next one will be a vampire."

She laughed. "You're just saying that." She punched his arm.

"Awkward sibling hug?"

"Awkward sibling hug." They hugged, and said, "Pat. Pat."

"How 'bout an 'awkward big sister hug?'" I asked. "Anyone?"

We walked through the gift shop door, tired and triumphant. Dipper kicked the door closed.

"Yeesh, you three get hit by a bus or something?" asked their great-uncle behind the register, counting today's profit. He laughed.

__We crashed a golf cart, does that count? __I thought.

We headed to the "Employees Only" doorway to get to the house side of the Shack for bed without a word. We were too worn out and a little bummed out for Mabel to say anything in return, although I was thinking about confronting Stan on his negligence of his own family tomorrow. I mean I was "watching" the twins, but they weren't solely my responsibility; they were his. And as such I thought he should care more about their safety and security.

"Eh, hey!" Stan called. We turned to him in response. "Eh- would-wouldn't you know it,um, I accidentally overstocked some inventory, so uh, how's about each of you take an item from the gift shop, on the house, you know?"

"Really?" asked Mabel eagerly.

"What's the catch?" asked Dipper. Same thing I was thinking.

"The catch is do it before I change my mind," replied Stan. "Now take something." He tapped the cash register and deposited his earnings, and the three of us took Stan up on his offer and check out the inventory to see what tickled our fancy. I decided that Stan wasn't half as bad as I perceived. But he certainly wasn't good. Even so, I knew that he was at least attempting to be a little kind towards his family and tenant, and considering that he and I were a bit oppositional in faith, I decided that I would let the problem slide.

Mabel went from one box and one shelf to another, searching with great interest. Dipper walked over to a shelf that held baseball caps with a pine tree emblem on the front, and tried one on. He looked in a nearby mirror. "Hm. That oughta do the trick."

I searched inside a tiny box, and found a few pens. I pulled one out, and scribbled a line on the back of my hand to test the color. I found that the color changed from night sky blue, to a dawn green, and again into a sunny yellow depending on the lighting. "Whoa," I commented. "Can't wait to write some stories with this."

Mabel looked inside another box."And I will have a..." she held out the desired object in her hand, did a little twirl, and said, "grappling hook!"

The three of us just gave each other side glances. "Yes," agreed Mabel.

"You wouldn't you rather have like, a doll or something?" asked Stan.

In response, Mabel shot the grappling hook to a rafter in the ceiling, and swung on the cable into a tall box labeled "Fragile."

"Grappling hook!" cried Mabel as she hung from the ceiling.

"Fair enough," replied Stan.

Later in my room, I laid in bed, writing in my journal.

"Dear God, my faith was stretched in a way I never expected today. I mean, I do believe in things like the supernatural and other things that are considered unbelievable, but I never thought that the unexplainable would extended to places like Gravity Falls. I promised I wouldn't mention it in writing, but let's just say that this town has some weird things and odd characters that Dipper, Mabel, and I intend to research about and figure out the secrets that this town holds. Oh, and Mabel's boyfriend was a total fraud. Let's just leave it at that.

"I miss writing short stories like I used to at home, and now that I'm armed with a new pen and an old notebook, I'm prepared for any bout of inspiration that should come my way.

"Before I go to bed, I feel like I should mention something else. Throughout the last couple of weeks that I lived here, I've asked myself again and again "Why am I here?" Nothing here at first seemed to make the trip and summer lease worth it, but I found that I might have some true purpose here: to be an older sister. It's all I've ever been at home, and now I'm applying those same skills and assets to my new assignment, the Pines Twins. I just hope that I'm up for the job. Because after today's challenge, I see that living in Gravity Falls is going to be more dangerous than it appeared.

"I pray God that you would protect me, Dipper, Mabel,"- I pondered my thought before writing it- "and yes, even that you would protect Stan. I can't say that he's my most favorite boss or person in the world, but considering how clueless he is about the dangers his grand-nephew and grand-niece had faced today, I'm almost afraid something might get him by surprise. Keep everyone here in the palm of your hand, and never let us go. Amen."

As Mabel jumped on her bed, Dipper wrote in the journal: "This journal told me there was no one in Gravity Falls I could trust. But when you battle a hundred gnomes side by side with someone, you realize that they've probably always got your back."

Mabel used her grappling hook to nab a stuffed tiger.

"Hey Mabel," called her brother. "Could you get the light?"

She aimed her grappling hook at the oil lamp burning by Dipper's bedside. "I'm on it," she replied. She shot the grappling hook at the lamp and it shot through the window breaking the pane.

"It worked!" she cried. The twin siblings laughed. "Grappling hook," said Mabel.

Dipper's entry ended with: "Our uncle told us there was nothing strange about this town. But who knows what other secrets are waiting to be unlocked."

Right below their broken bedroom window, their great-uncle carried an oil lantern and walked into the gift shop. He went up to the snack machine, and pressed in a code that wasn't listed for any of the snacks inside the machine. As he glanced over his shoulder, the whole machine swung back on unseen hinges, revealing a secret staircase behind it. He walked inside, but took another cautious look around to be sure he wasn't seen, and closed the door. The light that had been perpetually lit inside the machine went out.


	6. Ch5: LOTG: Old Man McGucket

Chapter 5: Legend of the Gobblewonker: Old Man McGucket

It was about eight in the morning, and Saturday was in the air. I was off class for the day, and had gotten up an hour earlier than I usually enjoyed so I could make pancakes for the twins. Mabel and Dipper were sitting at the kitchen table, breakfast mostly finished, entertaining themselves with one of those games that siblings will create between each other to pass time. I sat on my end of the table to watch.

"Are you ready for the ultimate challenge?" asked Mabel, holding a bottle of Sir Syrup maple syrup.

"I'm always ready," replied her brother, holding a bottle of Mountie Man maple syrup.

"Then you know what this means."

"Syrup race!" they said in exclamation. They opened the caps of syrup, held the bottles high over their mouths, and cheered for their syrup to drip faster."Ahhhhhhhh." I just cheered "Go!" for either one since I felt no bias towards one twin over the other.

"Go Sir Syrup!" cheered Mabel. "Go, go, go!

"Go Mountie Man!" cheered Dipper. "Go, go, go!

"Almost." Then Mabel tapped the bottom of her bottle, and the awaited drop of syrup fell on her tongue. "Yes!" she said triumphant, then proceed to choke on the inhaled maple sap by product. "I won!" _Reminds me of _my _siblings,_ I reminisced. _Good times._

Dipper, a little annoyed that she won, turned to the news magazine laying on the table. While his sister continued to sputter and cough, he found an article that interested him.

"No way!" he exclaimed in disbelief. "Hey guys, check this out." He showed the page he was reading to us.

"Human-sized hamster ball?" Mabel gasped. "I'm human-sized!"

"No no, Mabel, this." Her brother pointed to a monster photo in a contest ad. "We see weirder stuff than that everyday. We didn't get any photos of those gnomes, did we?"

"Nope, just memories," confirmed Mabel.

"And nightmares," I added.

"And this beard hair." She held up said hair.

"Why did you save that?" asked Dipper, mildly disgusted.

She shrugged.

"Didn't you have a scrapbook you were going to keep our memories in?" I asked her. "Maybe you could put it there as a reminder of our harrowing escape from those magical lawn ornaments."

Before she could answer, we heard Grunkle Stan walk into the room wearing only his underwear as evidence of just getting out of bed._(Does he wear that hat to bed too? _I wondered_.)_ "Good morning, knuckleheads. Any of you know what day it is?"

"Um, Happy Anniversary?" guessed Dipper.

"Saturday?" I guessed. _Compliment your grand-nephew, -niece, and tenant day?_ "Knucklehead" was the closest thing from either a compliment or a nickname that I heard from Stan.

"Mazel tov!" exclaimed Mabel. I guess their family was Jewish.

Stan whacked the newspaper he was holding into Dipper's head."It's Family Fun Day, genius." _So much for compliments,_ I thought. He threw the paper on the table and reached into the fridge for the milk carton while he spoke. "We're cutting off work and having one of those, you know-" he paused to sniff the milk- "bonding type deals."

"Grunkle Stan?" asked Dipper. "Is this gonna be anything like our last family bonding day?"

He and his sister flash-backed to the last family bonding day, when they were learning how to make counterfeit currency from Stan. Stan was inspecting a bill, while Dipper and Mabel sedulously painted frauds.

Stan tossed away the bill to inspect Dipper's work."You call that Ben Franklin? He looks like a woman."

Just then, sirens blared inside the room, warning them of imminent arrest. "Uh oh," said Stan.

Mabel shuddered from the memory. "Oh. The county jail was so cold."

"I thank God I was stuck in the schoolhouse with a jammed door that day," I said in remembrance.

"All right, maybe I haven't been the best summer caretaker," Stan finally admitted. "But I swear, today we're gonna have some_ real_ family fun. Now, who wants to put on some blindfolds and get into my car?"

"Yay!" cheered the twins. "Wait, what?" questioned Dipper.

_ -cue theme song- _

A deer leaped out of the road as Stan's car speed down. The twins and I were blindfolded in the backseat, and as Stan drove, he reached for something in the front seat, and caused the car to swerve sharply. The twins and I leaned in the opposite direction, obviously not expecting the turn. "Whoa, whoa!" yelped Dipper.

The only reason why I was considered family by Stan for the day was because he knew that neither one of the twins would want to be out here unless I was included on the experience. Besides, both me and Stan knew that I was the only adult between the two of us who could do CPR or else have the common sense to bring sunscreen to wherever we were going (if our destination was outside). I just kept praying that we weren't going to get involved in something illegal.

"Blindfolds never lead to anything good," muttered Dipper, hugging his knees.

"Wow," remarked Mabel. "I feel like all my other senses are heightened. I can see with my fingers," she whispered mystically. She pressed her hands into my face and Dipper's, causing us to laugh. Then a large bump in the road jolted us off the backseat. Good thing we had our seat belts on.

"Grunkle Stan, are _you_ wearing a blindfold?" asked Dipper.

"Heh heh, nah, but with these cataracts I might as well be," replied his great-uncle. "What is that, a woodpecker?"

It was a sign pointing in the direction of an upcoming curve, which of course Stan crashed along with the guard rail next to it, and kept driving off the road into the woods, with the twins and I yelping in the back. "_This_ is why I didn't call shot gun!" I yelled.

We stopped and got out, still wearing our blindfolds. There were branches sticking out of the grill of Stan's car, but for we came out of the woods for the most part undamaged.

"Okay, okay, open 'em up," said Stan somewhere in front of us. With growing trepidation, we pulled off the blindfolds, and saw we were taken too...

"Ta-da!" said Stan. Attired in fishing garb, he was standing in the entrance to Gravity Falls lake, a fishing rod in hand and a tackle box under his boot. He was under a sign that said 'Fishing Season Opening Day.' "It's fishing season."

"Fishing?" asked Mabel.

"What are you playing at, old man?" asked Dipper accusingly.

"You're gonna love it," replied Stan. "The whole town's out here." He gestured across the lake.

Sure enough, despite his cataracts, he was right. There was Lazy Susan, the owner/cook/waitress at the diner, sitting in a boat and holding out a pan calling "Here, fishy fishies! Get into the pan!"

And there was a man who caught a salmon almost as long as he was, posing with it as local news reporter Toby Determined was taking a picture of him. "Say cheese!" he said, but the flash surprised the man so much that he fell backward of the dock and into the lake.

And hairy Manly Dan and his family were all together in a boat, rods ready. "Uh, is this good?" asked one of his sons. "No!" he replied, grabbing the rod and snapping it in two. "I'll show you how a _real_ man fishes!" He leaned over the boat, poised to catch, and reached into the water and grabbed a fish. He laughed in triumph. He threw the poor fish in the boat, and started to pulverize it wrestler style. While he punched at it, his sons cheered "Dad! Dad! Dad! Dad!" while baby-faced Tyler in a nearby boat said, "Git 'im. Git 'im."

"That's some quality family bonding," remarked Stan.

"Grunkle Stan, why do you want to bond with us all of sudden?" asked Dipper. He was sure his scam artist of a great-uncle wasn't doing this out of the goodness of his heart.

But Stan, taking his question to mean that he didn't like the idea of fishing, replied, "Come on, this is gonna be GREAT! I've never had fishing buddies before." The three of us glanced at each other uneasily. "The guys from the Lodge won't go with me. They don't 'like' or 'trust' me."

"Ain't that a surprise?" I muttered sarcastically, rolling my eyes.

"I think he actually wants to fish with us," decided Mabel, but she didn't sound like she enjoyed the idea.

"Hey, I know what'll cheer you sad sacks up,"said Stan. He pulled out two fishing hats, one with Dipper's name and the other with Mabel's name on the front. "Pow!" He placed the hats on the kids heads. "Pines family fishing hats!" The twins took their hats off to read the name labels. "Eh-that- that's hand stichin', you know." Dipper's hat said "Dippy," while Mabel's hat had the "L" peeling off. He didn't offer me a hat, but I honestly didn't mind. I preferred it, actually.

"It's just gonna be you, me, the college kid, and those goofy hats on a boat for ten hours," continued Stan, with a oblivious sort of happiness.

"Ten hours?" asked Dipper incredulously. Mabel was definitely not looking like her perpetual happy self. Neither was I.

Their great-uncle winked. "I brought the joooke boook," he said, holding up a book with the title "1001 Yuk 'Em Ups" with a cartoon old man on the front with the caption "Uncle Approved!"

"No. NOO!" shuddered Dipper in wide-eyed horror. "There has to be a way out of this," whispered his sister. I prayed that there was. It didn't take long for my prayers to be answered.

"I SEEN IT!" screamed an old voice. "I seen it again!" An old man with a bandaged arm, overalls, and cowboy hat pushed his way across the dock to get to the lake's shore. On his way over, he ran through a line of fishing rods, turned over a bench with buckets of fish, and even knocked a sandwich out of an innocent bystander's hands. He ran up to one of the fishermen, grabbed him by the shoulders and yelled hysterically, "The Gravity Falls Gobblewonker! Come quick before it scrab-doodles away!" he then commenced in what might have been a demented version of a jig.

"Oh no, it's Old Man McGucket," I muttered. I've heard rumors about this screwball, and all of them were apparently true.

"Aw," said Mabel. "He's doing a happy jig."

"NOOO!" Crazy McGucket grabbed her arm. "It's a jig of grave DAAANGERRR!" This man was starting to frighten me, and I would've said something, but someone came to our rescue.

"Hey, HEY!" called a park ranger coming outside the nearby park center to stop the domestic -and I'd say mental- disturbance. The old man leaped straight away when he saw the ranger armed with a spray bottle of water. "Now what did I tell you about scaring my customers ?" he scolded, spraying the man with the bottle. "This is your last warning, Dad!"

"But I got proof this time, by gobbity" replied his drenched father.

Mabel and Dipper glanced at each other, intrigued.

The old man walked to the edge of the dock, with us and everyone who watched him in tow.

"Behold!" McGucket hollered, pointing at a boat that was broken in half down the middle and floating listlessly near the dock. The cops had pulled up in a patrol boat nearby."It's the Gobble-de-Wonker done did it! It had a long neck like a gee-raffe, and wrinkly skin like..." he glanced over at Stan and pointed to him. "Like this gentleman right here."

"Huh?" asked Stan, who had been busy cleaning wax out of his ear.

"It chawed my boat up to smitheroons," continued the eccentric old man. "And ship-shammed over to Scuttlebutt Island." He pointed over to the remote misted -over island in the middle of the lake. "You gotta BELIEVE ME!" He shook his son.

"Attention all units,"called Sheriff Blubs in the boat. "We got ourselves a crazy, old man."

Everyone on the dock laughed, except for me, Dipper, and Mabel, who felt maybe a bit sympathetic, and Stan, who seemed just plain confused about what was going on. The ranger shook his head with an attitude like "He'll never change."

"Ahhh, donkey spittle!" the old man yelled in frustration. He walked dejectedly off the dock, muttering things under his breath about the nonbelievers. Everyone exited off the dock except us, laughing as they left.

"Well, that happened," remarked Stan. "Now let's untie this boat and get out on that lake." He climbed inside said motorboat tied unto the dock, with the name "STANOWAR" painted on the port side of the stern.

"Guys," asked Dipper excitedly. "Did you hear what that old dude said?"

"'Ahhh, donkey spittle,'" Mabel imitated.

"The _other_ thing, about the monster." He pulled out the news magazine he had read this morning form his body warmer. "If we can snag a photo of it, we can split the prize _thirty-thirty_... _thirty, _I think."

She gasped slightly. "That's _three_ thirties!"

"Imagine what you could do with _Three. Hundred. Dollars_!"

So Mabel did. She imagined that that amount of money could buy her a human-sized hamster ball. In her fantasy, she towered over a hamster inside a ball. "Not so high and mighty anymore," she gloated. The hamster hung his head in sadness. Mabel laughed, rolling the ball around the Mystery Shack, breaking through one of the walls and going outside.

Then in her fantasy, she saw her dream boys, Xyler and Craz, driving a red convertible down to an intersection. They paused at as the light turned red.

"Hey boys," called Mabel, poised cooly by a trash can inside her hamster ball. "You can look, but you can't touch."

The light at the intersection turned green.

"Squeak! Squeak!" Mabel said, racing down the street.

The dream boys stared slack-jawed, their sunglasses slipping off their faces. "Awesome!" they said.

Mabel was getting starry-eyed, so her brother tried to regain her attention. "Mabel? _Mabel._"

"Dipper," replied Mabel, who finally returned to us. "I am one _million_ percent on board with this."

"How 'bout you, Ishannah?" he asked me. "You in?" I knew that these guys probably couldn't really get away with doing something this dangerous without my adult seal of approval. I would've thought that this was all just kid stuff, but after being chased by gnomes, I was willing to believe anything in this hokey town. Besides, it beat listening to terrible jokes for ten hours and gutting fish.

"All the way," I replied. "But _you_ should talk to him first, since he actually _likes_ you."

"Grunkle Staaaan!" Dipper said. "Change of plans! We're taking _that _boat to Scuttlebutt Island, and we're gonna find that Gobblewonker."

"Monster hunt! Monster hunt!" the twins chanted. I came in on the second chant.

"Monster hunt!" the old man chanted with us. He came out to where we were on the dock. "Monster, eh..." When no one said anything else, he walked away saying "I'll go."

"You know," I said. "I'm beginning to wonder if we aren't seeing the real monster in front of us right now."

Just then, we heard a boat horn calling our attention, and a large boat loomed to other side of the dock, with the name "S.S. Cool Dude" painted on the port side of the stern. Soos was at the helm. "You dudes say something about a monster hunt?" he asked. Mabel and Dipper smiled in recognition.

"Soos!" called Mabel happily.

"What's up, Hambone?" Soos put out a fist, and Mabel bumped it, and they made fake explosion noises on impact. That was something I admired about Soos. Sure, at times he was clumsy or didn't have common sense. But he never took Mabel and Dipper's presence to be annoying, but genuinely enjoyed and even invited them to do things with him.

"Dude, you could totally use my boat for your hunt," said Soos. "It's got a steering wheel, chairs, normal boat stuff." He patted the metallic side confidently.

"Alright, alright," Stan addressed us. "Let's think this through. You kids could go waste your time on some epic monster finding adventure, _or_ you could spend the day learning how to tie knots and skewer worms with your Great-uncle Stan!"

The twins looked indecisively between Soos and Stan. Soos was in his high grade boat doing "the robot", whereas Stan was sitting in an old leaky wooden motorboat checking the scent of his armpit. The twins looked out to the mist-shrouded island of Scuttlebutt Island that promised intrigue and adventure, and that made their decision.

_Wait?_ I thought. _So the twins are thinking about going out in a boat, in the middle of the lake, far from help, to search for a dangerous boat-eating monster... with _Soos_!?_ I wasn't about to let these kids put themselves in danger without at least _one_ responsible adult overseeing things.

"So, what do ya say?" asked Stan, confident that his offer would be taken unanimously. All he heard in return was the boat horn of Soos' boat sounding and the sounds of cheers as his grand-nephew, grand-niece, and tenant left for Scuttlebutt Island. "We made the right choice!" cheered Mabel.

Stan watched in disbelief as they disappeared into the fog, then he frowned. "Ingrates! Aw, who needs 'em? I got a whole box of creepy fishin' lures to keep me company." The dead fish with hooks speared through them had flies buzzing over their bodies, and their unblinking eyes stared at Stan. "Uhhuh!" Stan closed the lid on the tackle box.

Dipper stared confidently into the wind as he stood on the bowsprit on the bow of the boat. "Hoist the anchor!" He commanded. Soos pulled up a chain with the anchor, which turned out to be a cinder block.

"Raise the flag!" commanded Dipper. Mabel raised a towel with a sun wearing sunglasses on it in her hands. "We're gonna find that Gobblewonker!" she said to her brother confidently.

"We're gonna win that photo contest!" replied Dipper.

"Do any of you dudes have sunscreen?" asked Soos.

"I knew I left something behind," I remarked.

"We're gonna... go get sunscreen!" said Dipper.

"YAY!" We cheered, as Soos steered the boat back in the direction of the shore. As the boat headed out of deep water, a mysterious creature lurked beneath the surface.


	7. Ch6: LOTG: The Beaver Fakeout

Chapter 6: Legend of The Gobblewonker: The Beaver Fakeout

Dipper paced the deck of the boat, while we stood aside, waiting to hear what he was going to tell us. It seemed crucial.

"All right," said Dipper. "If we want to win this contest, we gotta do it right. Think: what's the number one problem with most monster hunts?"

I could think of more than just _one_ problem with most hunts. "When it's on public television and the government hasn't intervened to prevent the hunt from gathering evidence, you know it's faked?"

Soos was the next to speak up. "If you're a side character, you die within the first five minutes of the movie." He paused at the thought. But only for a millisecond. "Dude! Am _I_ a side character? Do you ever think about stuff like that?"

"_All the time_," I assured him.

"No no no," replied Dipper. "Camera trouble! Say Bigfoot shows up. Soos, be Bigfoot?"

Soos did the famous Bigfoot pose of him looking back at the camera as he walked into the woods. Dipper pretended to be a witness. "There he is. Bigfoot! Uh oh! No camera." He pulled out a disposable camera from inside his life jacket. "Oh wait. Here's one." He pretended to try to make a shot. "Aw, no film. You see- you see what I'm doing here?" He said, returning the camera to his life jacket.

We all affirmed that we did. "Dude's got a point," remarked Soos.

"That's why I bought. Twenty. Disposable. Cameras," said Dipper. "Two on my ankle, three in my jacket, three for each of you, five extras in this bag, and one..." He lifted his hat off his head. "Under my hat. There's no way we're gonna miss this. OK everybody, let's test our cameras out."

Soos tried taking a photo with one of his cameras, but the flash was on and the camera was aimed at his face, and it blinded him. "AH! Dude!" he screamed, throwing the camera out of his hands and into the lake.

"You see?" asked Dipper confidently. "This is exactly why you need backup cameras. We still have nineteen."

Just then, a seagull swooped in at Mabel's head. "AH! Bird!" She threw one of her cameras at it, but she missed and it fell in the water.

"Eighteen," said Dipper. "OK guys, I repeat: _don't _lose your cameras."

"Wait, lose the cameras?" asked Soos.

"DON'T!"

"Dude, I just threw two away."

"And one of those was mine," I added.

"Sixteen! All right, we _still _have sixteen camera-" He threw his fist down on top of a cooler, and crushed a camera laying on it. "Fifteen. We have fifteen cameras."

"So what's the plan?" asked Mabel. "Throw more cameras overboard or what?"

"NO!" screamed her brother. "No," he said more calmly. "OK, you'll be lookout, Soos can work the steering wheel, Isannah will throw the bait, and I'll be captain."

"What?" replied Mabel. "Why do you get to be captain? What about Mabel, huh?" She chanted, "Mabel!" until her brother said, "I'm not sure that's a good idea."

"What about co-captain?"

"There's no such thing as co-captain."

"Uh, whoops," she said as she tossed a camera behind her, overboard into the lake.

"OK, fine! You can be co-captain."

"That tallies us at fourteen cameras," I said. "Nicely played, Mabel." I had to admire her unprecedented cunning at times.

"Can I be associate co-captain?" asked Soos.

"As co-captain, I authorize that request," said Mabel.

"What does that make me?" I asked. "A cabin girl?"

"OK, I authorize you as cabin girl of the boat," said Mabel.

"Well, as first co-captain," said Dipper. "Our number one order of business is to lure the monster out with this." He gestured to a barrel labeled fish food.

"Permission to taste some?" asked Soos.

"Granted," replied Dipper, with a raised eyebrow.

"Permission co-granted," replied Mabel.

"Permission associate co-granted," replied Soos, reaching a hand into the barrel and taking a huge fish flake. He licked it, and coughed and frantically tried to wipe the taste out of his mouth. The three of us couldn't stop laughing.

"Ah, dude," said Soos. "I don't know what I expected that to taste like."

"Oh Soos, you're a card," I laughed.

Meanwhile, alone in his own boat, Stan could hear his relatives and employees laughing and having a good ol' time. "Traitors," he muttered. "Uhhhh, I'll find my own fishing buddies." He glanced hurriedly around the lake, and spied boat with a couple. "Ah! There's my new pals." He fired up the motor, and headed in their direction.

The couple had rowed out for a romantic day on the lake. While the woman gazed up at the sky, the man glanced down at the ring he held, nervous about the question he was about to ask her.

He took a breath, exhaled, and said to her, "Now that we're alone, Rosanna, there's a burning question which my heart longs to ask of you."

"Oh, Reginald," she said, tears coming to her eyes.

"Hey!" called Stan. He pulled up behind them, interrupting their moment. Rosanna pulled toward Reginald for protection. "Wanna hear a joke?"

Before Reginald could respond, Stan interrupted again. "Here it goes: my ex-wife still misses me... but her aim is gettin' better!" No one said anything in response. "Her aim is gettin' better!" The couple just gave him frightened looks. "You see it's funny because marriage is terrible."

The couple angrily paddled away, taking his words as a rude gesture. "What?" asked Stan.

We were sailing into the muggy fog that surrounded Scuttlebutt Island. It was like twilight; nothing was distinct. I was beginning to rethink my decision about coming out here. I was also repraying that God would take me back.

Captain Dipper stood off to the starboard side of the bow, watching the fog, Associate Co-captain Soos was busy steering and I was shoveling fish flakes into the water to attract the lake monster, and Co-captain Mabel stood at the bow of the boat with a pelican that flew in on the bowsprit. The only tangible light was the one shining from the roof of the helm.

"Hey, how's it going?" Mabel asked the pelican. She moved it's mouth like a puppet's as she voiced for it. "It's going awesome. Bow bow ba- bow bow!" Dipper strained to see her through the fog, and frowned at her antics.

"Mabel, leave that thing alone," he said.

"Aw, I don't mind none," replied Mabel through the pelican. "Hey look! I'm drinking water!" She drank a glass of water, while trying to do the pelican voice like a ventriloquist. "Twinkle, twinkle, little-" she choked and sputtered on the water, and the pelican flew away.

"I hope that bird doesn't inform the Humane Society," I muttered shoveling more flakes into the dark waters.

"Aren't you supposed to be doing lookout?" Dipper asked his sister.

"Look out!" she said, throwing a volleyball at him. The ball hit his arm, and he whined slightly like an injured puppy.

She chuckled. "But seriously, I'm on it."

The boat slammed into something and shuddered to a halt, jolting everyone on board. The light at the helm went out

"See? We're here," said Mabel. We had run aground on the shore of ScuttleButt Island. "I'm a lookout genius. Hamster ball, here we come." We disembarked and let the light of Dipper's lantern guide us.

The island had pine trees that jutted out of the island like spikes, and the fog felt like chilled fingers against my skin. The whole place was just eerie. On a nearby rock of the island, I saw a lonely totem pole. It seemed like a ghostly cross in the dim light. I hurried after the rest of the group.

We followed an old path in the woods. Owls called to each other, and it seemed that between the four of us, Mabel and Soos were the only ones smiling the most.

_The Pine Barrens has nothing on this place,_ I thought. We came across a sign on a tree that stated "ScuttleButt Island," while a smaller staked on the ground said "Beware." _Like Dipper's mosquito message,_ I thought. This was getting spookier by the minute.

Soos and Mabel paused by the first sign. "Dude, check it out," said Soos. He covered the "Scuttle" part of the name with his arm. "'Butt Island.'"

"Soos, you _rapscallion_," fake scolded Mabel.

I wanted to laugh, but I was thinking about how much I wished I had brought my flashlight with us.

Dipper stared incredulously for a second, until his sister asked, "Hey, why aren't you laughing? Are you _scared_?"

"Yeah, right" he replied. "I'm not-" She poked him in the nose. "Yeah, you arrre."

"Hey, cut ou-" Mabel continued to poke his nose, blowing raspberries as she did. "Qui-"

She began poking his head. "Stop- Mabel- uh-" but she wouldn't quit.

"Come on, guys," I said moving over towards them. "Let's try to be mature here; we're on a monster quest after all." I was about to break them up, when we we heard something.

There was a unidentifiable but malicious noise that resounded through the woods, and caused us to pause in apprehension.

"Dude, did you guys hear that?" asked Soos, nervous.

"I wish I hadn't," I said, even more nervous. I kept thinking to myself _Greater is he who is in me than he who is in the world. Greaterishewhoisinmethanhewhoisintheworld. Greaterishewhoisinmethanhewhoisintheworld._

"What was that?" asked Mabel, backing behind Soos. Then a thought occurred to her. "Was it your stomach?"

"Nah," he replied. "My stomach normally sounds like a whale noises." Mabel placed her ear on his belly, and sure enough, heard the sounds of an aquatic mammal. "WOW," she said awed. "_So majestic_."

"It may have been my stomach," I admitted. "I didn't eat lunch yet, and I'm almost tempted to eat those fish flakes."

"Don't!" warned Soos.

Out of the fog, an opossum picked off Dipper's lantern lying in the path, and ran away with it. Dipper gasped as it disappeared. "Our lantern!" We found ourselves surrounded in a cloud of white. "Ah!" said Dipper frustrated. "I can't see anything!"

"OK guys, I'm officially frightened," I said. "This place is giving me bad vibes." Even though I couldn't see them well, I could feel their odd looks in my direction.

"Duuuude, I don't know man," said Soos in agreement. "Maybe this, uh, maybe this isn't worth it."

"_Not_ worth it?" Dipper asked him. "Guys, imagine what would happen if we got that picture!"

Dipper imagined himself on a talk show, dressed like Indiana Jones (with the five o'clock shadow included). He tipped his hat cooly at the audience, and settled himself to speak with the host, Charlie.

"Tonight," said Charlie. "We're here with adventure seeker, Dipper Pines, who bravely photographed the elusive Gobblewonker. Tell me Dipper, what is the secret to your success?"

"Well, I run away from nothing," he replied, taking a swig of coffee that was set for him. "Nothing except for when I ran away from my annoying Grunkle Stan, who I ditched in order to pursue that lake monster,"

"How right you were to do so. He looked like a _real_ piece of work." He walked over to Dipper, a medal in his hands. "I don't often do this, but I feel the need to give you an award." He placed the medal around his neck, and the two of them posed for pictures from the press.

There was a sudden crash in the wall behind the set, followed by a voice."Charlie!" It was Mabel, panting inside a hamster ball, looking like she had been living in it for months. "Why won't you interview me?!" She ran her ball right at them, and Dipper and Charlie ran for their lives.

Dipper came out of his imagination with a grin. "I'm in!"

"Me too!" agreed Mabel. The two of them ran into the woods. Soos took a glance behind them, then ran after them. "Alright dudes, I'm comin'!"

Not wanting to be left alone in the mist, nor wanting the twins (or Soos) to get into danger, I followed them, with an ever growing fear of what might await us here on the island.

"Uh, ladies first!" I called after him.

We had been walking for what may have been anywhere between a few minutes to a few hours. Between Mable and Soos' beep-boxing, I had lost track of time.

"My name is Mabel. It rhymes with table. It also rhymes with label. I also rhymes with shmabel."

"Dude, we should be writing this down," Soos told her.

"I wonder if we didn't scare the monster off with all our racket," I remarked.

"What are you talking about?" said Mabel. "We're not playing tennis."

"Guys, guysguysguys!" whispered Dipper, signaling us to stop. "You hear something?"

There was the same low growling that seemed to permeate the mist. At this second round of the sound, a flock of birds took off from the other side of the island.

"This is it!" Dipper gasped excitedly. "This is it!"

Mabel and Dipper punched each other playfully, whispering "yes" excitedly and repeatedly. They walked in the direction where the flock was originally. Soos took up a sharped stick in his hand, patted his hat on his head with a look of intrepid determination, and followed suit.

"Guys, stop leaving me behind!" I whisper-shouted, as I leaped after them.

The fog seemed the thickest as we crossed to the opposite side of Scuttlebutt. So we none of us saw what was in front of us until Soos stopped us, suddenly alert. And we saw why.

In the lake a little beyond the bank of the island, was a figure sitting in the water. It was shaped like the monster described by Old Man McGucket. We leaped behind a rotting log, and peered over it.

"Everyone," whispered Dipper, getting out his camera. "Get your cameras ready." Soos had his pulled out already, and gave him a thumbs up. I had out the remaining two, ready to take a double shot. Mabel turned hers on, and got that starry-eyed look again, probably picturing herself with the human-sized hamster ball.

"Ready?" asked Dipper. "GO!"

Soos took off, yelling and holding his camera out at arm's length, followed behind by me and the twins. Soos was snapping pictures rapidly, but as we came into view, we saw that the "monster" was nothing more than the remains of a sunken ship, and the home of a family of beavers.

One beaver said to the other in an animal language "I love cavorting!" and its companion said in return "That deserves a hug!" They hugged while a third one hobbled off and fell into the water.

Soos kept snapping pictures of the wreck and wood eating semi-aquatic rodents. "But..." Dipper was confused. "But what was that _noise_ then?- I heard a monster noise."

Just then the noise was heard. "You had to _remind_ him?" I asked Dipper, half-anxious and half-angry. But then we found the source of the noise on a fallen log: a beaver chewing on a chainsaw, and the chainsaw briefly coming to life and buzzing in response.

"Sweet!" replied Soos. "Beaver with a chainsaw!" He snapped a photo of it.

"Maybe that old guy was crazy after all," remarked Dipper.

"He did use the word 'scrap-doodle', said Mabel in agreement.

Dipper sighed in deep disappointment, while Soos continued to snap pictures.

I still snapped a picture of the beaver with the chainsaw though. It _was_ cool. "And to think, we could have been fishing with Stan," I said.

Meanwhile, Stan was speaking to a boy fishing with his family. "Look, when you thread the line, a lot of people don't know this, but you want to use a barrel knot. That's a secret from one fishing buddy to another. Eh-heh." He elbowed the kid, who was scared.

"Uh... I, uh...who are you exactly?" the kid asked.

"Just call me your 'Grunkle Stan.'" He said patting the boy's head.

"Sir-s-s-sir," said the kid's irritated mother. "Why are you talking to our son? If you don't leave right now, I'm calling the police!"

"Heh-heh," replied Stan nervously. "You see, the thing about _that_ is-" He pulled the lever on his motor and left the family in his wake.

"Go bother your own kids!" She yelled after him.

Back on Scuttlebutt, Soos was taking photos of a beaver on a stump, who he thoght was modeling for him. "Ooo, yeah! Work it! Work it! Nice! Nice! Give me another one of those. Yeah, I like that one." The beaver then hopped off the stump and ran off. Soos was really getting into the beavers. Considering that he had teeth like they did, I guess they made him feel normal.

"What are we gonna say to Grunkle Stan?" asked Dipper sullenly. He was sitting on a rock that jutted out of the lake near the bank. "We ditched him over nothing." He threw a stone angrily into the water, and sighed as he watched the water ripple his reflection.

"I guess we apologize and try to make it up to him," I said. I was feeling pretty bad too, because I had a hand our desertion, and I knew that I should have told the twins to stay and give their grunkle a chance. _I_ should have given him a chance. _Some example I'm setting,_ I thought. I went back to the log to retrieve one of the cameras I had a dropped while rushing to snap photos of the 'monster.'

A sound rumbled through the water. "Hey!" said Dipper. "Guys, do you feel that?" Then he and the rock he sat on sank into the water. "Hey hey! Whoa whoa!" Dipper crawled out and scrambled up the bank, right before a flipping tail could slap him. Mabel gave a slight cry. The back end of some enormous beast growled and swam into the fog, it's tail and back exposed.

"This is it!" exclaimed Dipper. He had his camera ready, and snapped a picture. "Come on," Dipper looked back at us. "This is our chance." The lake beast was circling its way back toward us.

Soos and Mabel backed away slowly. "What's wrong with you guys?" asked Dipper confused.

A giraffe-like neck rose out of the water behind him.

"Hey guys, what's going on?" I called. I heard some yelling and splashing, and hurried to see what was going on.

"Dipper..." warned Mabel.

"Duuuude," warned Soos.

"It's not that hard, all right," Dipper replied, slightly irritated. The eyes of the creature glowed high into fog above Dipper's head. "All you gotta to do is point and shoot. Like this." He turned around to get his winning shot of the beast. He trailed his line of vision through the lens from the water up to the face of oversized canines and glowing eyes of the Gobblewonker.

I was almost too shocked by the sight to react. Almost.

"DIPPER RUN!" I screamed.

The monster let out a roar, and everyone snapped out of their fear and took off. "Run!" yelled Soos. The three of us ran for the woods. Dipper dropped the camera and followed us. The monster gave another roar and flopped onto the bank, tearing down pine trees as it pursued us. One tree was about to fall on Mabel, but Dipper intercepted it and shoved himself and his sister out of the way. They went tumbling like a tumbleweed but broke free of the tumble and kept running, dodging falling trees left and right.

A tree limb snapped and was going to hit Soos, but I shoved him and we narrowly avoided it. A pine cone hurled itself toward my head, but Soos punched it away before it could hit. The twins eventually caught up with me and Soos, who for being usually slow, was remarkably fast under pressure. "Get back to the boat! HURRY!" He screamed.

The Gobblewonker caught up and almost bit Mabel, who screamed and was picked up by Soos. He carried her on his back, and kept running. Dipper turned around, trying to get another shot. He got one, but tripped over a root, and the camera flew free from his hands and bounced toward the enormous girth of the Gobblewonker.

"THE PICTURE!" Dipper was going back for the camera, but Soos and I snatched him before he could go. Soos latched unto his life jacket, and carried him that way.

"Dude, if it makes you feel any better," said Soos. "I got tons of pictures of those beavers, dude."

"Why would that make me feel better?" exasperated Dipper.

We kept running and running, but the Gobblewonker was close on our tails. Ready to gobble us.

I wasn't sure how long I could keep running. I wasn't known for being the most active kid in the family. And now I might be the most inactive kid. _Permanently_.

"We should have just gone _fishing_!" I exclaimed regretfully, panting heavily.


	8. Ch7:LOTG: Our Family Fun Day

Chapter 7: Legend of The Gobblewonker: Our Family Fun Day

Finally, the S.S. Cool Dude was in sight! We belted for the grounded vessel. I leaped into the deck, Soos tossed Dipper to me, and Mabel crawled off of Soos' back and he clambered aboard. Our combined weight offset the boat back into the water, and Soos took the wheel saying "Now let's get outta here, dudes!"

While the boat was steered in reverse away from Scuttlebutt Island, the monstrosity of the Gobblewonker crawled through the forest, roaring and knocking down trees like bowling pins.

"All right, this is it," said Dipper. He pulled out another of his disposable cameras, and aimed for a shot, but there was a small problem. "CRACKED LENS? Soos, get a photo!"

But Soos was too busy throwing cameras at the pursuing monster to think of that idea.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" Dipper screamed.

"Oh," Soos realized. "I still got one left, dude. Here!" He tossed the remaining camera, but it hit the edge of the helm and shattered into colorful plastic bits and rolls of film.

On the shore, the monster had leaped into the water. It's long gee-raffe neck rose out of the water, and it cast a shadow over the deck. Soos ran to helm, and shifted the boat into higher gear. The monster continued it's predatory chase. It aimed and tried to grab the boat in its mouth, but missed, and the impact of its strike cause the boat to ride a high wave. The wave tossed Soos into the helm, and Dipper and Mabel and I bounced as the boat landed. It reminded me too much of the waves at the Jersey shore.

Soos steered the boat out of reverse and back into forward gear. "Gogogogogo!" shouted Dipper.

Soos pushed a lever, and the boat streaked across the lake and away from the oppressive danger behind us. "Oh no, it's chasing us toward Stan!" I cried.

Meanwhile, Stan was having trouble with a knot on his fishing line. "Ter-ga-moni-colic," he muttered.

"Can you _pwease_ tell me _more_ funny stories, Pop Pop?" asked a child's voice. The voice belonged to a child who closely resembled Dipper, but was younger. He was sitting in a boat next to his sister who closely resembled Mabel, and the two of them were listening to an elderly man who looked nothing like Stan. "Anything for my fishing buddies," the man replied. He laughed, rubbing the Dipper kid's head.

Stan growled at the sight.

"Pop Pop," said the Dipper kid, bashfully. "I just wealized that..." his eyes grew round as he whispered his next words. "I wove you."

"Aw, c'mon!" yelled Stan. "BOOOOOO! BOOOOOO!"

"Eh-heh- Hey now, what's the big idea?" questioned the grandfatherly man.

"Maybe he has no one who woves him, Pop Pop," replied the surprisingly insightful Dipper kid.

"Yeah, we-well I-I-" But Stan was interrupted by Soos' boat rushing in out of nowhere, followed by the towering Gobblewonker in hot pursuit. The wake of the monster washed over the grandfather and his grandchildren, and Stan was thoroughly soaked as well. He threw his hat in frustration, then sighed and sank into his boat.

The monster was outrageously fast, and gaining speed with us. I was hoping that there was something other than us on board that could detain or else stop it completely. The only thing I saw was the barrel of fish food. I grabbed the rim and dragged it to the stern.

"Iz, what are you doing?" cried Mabel, alarmed.

"I might only be a side character, but I'm not dying today," I called back. I heaved the whole barrel overboard, and watched to see what the monster would do. It didn't even pause; it rammed the barrel right through, and scattered fish flakes everywhere. If no one caught any fish, it was because they had congregated where the barrel was destroyed.

"Well, you can't blame a side character for trying to get recognized," I said.

The Gobblewonker never lost speed. It chased us back around Scuttlebutt Island, and down the other side of it.

"Soos!" cried Dipper. "Beaver!" The beaver shipwreck laid right in front of us!

"We're still beavers," said one in it's animal language.

Soos tried to steer the boat away, but we rammed into the wreck starboard side, blasting the ship to smithereens and sending splinters and beavers flying into the air.

Angry beavers rained on the boat, clinging and chewing on every surface. Including us. Two were on Dipper's head, one grabbed Mabel's arm, and three clung to my hair. Another one leaped into Soos' face, and he ran from the wheel, disoriented and yelling a muffled "Dude!" Mabel shook the beaver off her arm, and took the helm. While Mabel steered the boat away from the misted waters of Scuttlebutt Island, Dipper was able to shake off the buck-toothed rodents biting his hat, and many of the other beavers lost their grip as the boat changed direction. I had to grab my ponytail and whack it against the port side of the boat to loosen the vengeful rodents off.

While Dipper pulled off a beaver that was chewing the starboard side of the boat, Soos was running around in circles crying "Owowowowowow!" with a beaver on his face. Dipper chucked beavers out of the boat. One beaver leaped on my shoulder, and I was trying to body-slam the deck to get it off me. The Gobblewonker sank it's neck back into the water, while beavers fell unceremoniously into the lake.

The lake monster followed us closely under the water. We now found ourselves speeding through a narrow channel of the lake where there were many people fishing in boats. We served to avoid them, but the Gobblewonker upset the boats and they flipped into the air, spilling screaming fishermen, poles, and tackle boxes.

Manly Dan was fighting a fish, and had it in a headlock. "Headlock!" he yelled. His sons cheered, "Dad! Dad! Dad!" until their boat tossed them all in the air from the wake of the monster. The Corduroy guys fell into the lake, and came up gasping for breath, and the fish they caught rained on their heads.

"The fishes?" asked Manly Dan incredulously. "They seek revenge! Swim, boys. SWIM!" They swam for shore and for safety.

We were still trying to escape the monster and rid ourselves of our rodent problem. Poor Soos still had a beaver clinging to his face, and he was trying to pry it off. Mabel steered, while Dipper and I continued to toss beavers out.

The Gobblewonker rose it's head back out of the water, roaring and shaking water from it's protruding canines and scaly face. Then it swung it's head trying to strike us, but Mabel swerved away from it. The beast tried again, and succeeded in knocking off the roof of the helm and the remaining beavers off the boat. We had ducked before it could knock us overboard.

Soos was still struggling to get the stubborn beaver off his face, but Mabel screamed, "Ahh! Look out!" And then we saw what we were speeding towards.

"Easy, easy," said a mustached man. He and a fellow worker were carrying a glass window between their boats. We didn't have time to avoid it.

"The glass!" yelled the other man after it shattered.

The boat then found it's way into a narrow channel heading toward a cliff with a waterfall. "Where do I go?" cried Mabel. The twins looked to me and Soos for help, but I was too busy trying to pry the beaver off his face. The cliff was approaching fast.

Dipper pulled out the journal and flipped rapidly through the pages, searching for a solution. "Um... uh-uh- Go to the falls!" he exclaimed. "I think there might be a cave behind there!"

"Might be?!" cried Mabel. I had finally succeeded in prying the wood-eating rodent from Soos' mug. But as we approached the rocky falls, we screamed and we shielded our eyes, Mabel with her hands, Dipper with the journal, I with my ponytail, and Soos with the beaver. We braced for impact.

We sped under the pouring falls and into a cave. What was left of the boat ran aground on the sand, and flipped us off unto the floor. Soos landed both beaverless and topless.

After picking ourselves up and dusting off sand, the Gobblewonker shot into the cove. We screamed, and held each other, waiting for the monster to eat us, but...

The roaring beast had jammed itself into the mouth of the cave. It tried to break free, and roared in anger. Stalactites and bits of rock fell from the roof of the cave.

"It's stuck!" said Mabel.

"Ha, ha. Yeah!" said Dipper with triumph. "Wait. It's stuck?" We ran up high ledge to get a better view.

"This is our chance, Dipper!" I exclaimed. Dipper realized that this was the winning shot he was looking for. He reached inside his life jacket to get a camera, but then panicked. He had no more. He searched about, but then Mabel picked up his hat, revealing the last camera, with a "Boo."

Dipper laughed at the face of failure, and began taking photos of the trapped lake monster. It tried to snap at him, but was just out of reach. Dipper was so happy, he was hopping as he snapped photo after photo. "Did you get a good one?" Mabel asked him.

"They're ALL good ones!" exclaimed her brother. While the two of them cheered over their good fortune, Mabel placed Dipper's hat back on his head and they hugged each other.

The monster kept roaring, the echoes of his defeat shaking the roof of the cave, until a large stalactite fell on it's snout with a metallic thud. Then the neck lowered, shooting sparking, into the pool of water under it.

"What the...?" asked Dipper, expressing all our thoughts out loud. He leaped off the ledge, and headed toward a fin of the creature, whose eyes were flickering like dying light bulbs. "Huh?" Dipper felt the side of the monster's torso, then jumped back at how cold the scaly side felt. "What's wrong?" called his sister. He furrowed his brow, and banged his knuckles against the monster, and a metallic sound echoed back. He then began climbing across the back of the Gobblewonker. "Careful, dude!" called Soos. "I've got this. Hold on!" Dipper called back, continuing his ascension. Soos, Mabel, and I held our breath, afraid of what Dipper might find.

"Hey, guys!" called Dipper from the back of the beast. "Come check this out!" After waiting for the three of us to catch up, he showed us a door that was closed in the middle of the creature's back. Dipper and Mabel looked at each other, and Dipper grasped the wheel of the door and spun it. Steam hissed out as the tumbler pulled back in the door. Dipper then threw back the door, revealing hot steam and unlocking the secret to the mystery.

Inside... was none other than a crazy bearded old man, trying to work the gears of the machine of the monster. "Eh?" he asked looking up at us. "Ahh, banjo polish!" he cussed.

"Old Man McGucket?!" I exclaimed.

"Wha-Y-_You?!_" exclaimed Dipper. "_You_ _made_ _this_? Wha-wha-_why_?"

"Well I... I, uh..." McGucket seemed ashamed. "I just wanted attention."

"I still don't understand," replied Dipper.

"Well, first I just hootinannied up a bio-mechanical brain-wave generator, and then I learned to operate a stick shift with my beard."

"OK," replied Mabel. "Yeah. But _why_ did you do it?"

McGucket removed his hat. "Well, when you get to be an old fella like me, nobody pays any attention to you anymore," he explained. "My own son hasn't visited me in months. So I figured maybe I'd catch his fancy with a fifteen ton aquatic robot." He laughed manically in remembrance, then sighed. "In retrospect, it seems a bit contrived. You just don't know the length us old-timers go through for a little quality time with our family."

Dipper and Mabel removed the hats that Stan had made them, and sighed sadly. So did I.

"Dude," said Soos. "I guess Isannah was right, in a way: the real lake monster is you guys. Heh heh." We looked at him. "Sorry, I just like-Boom!- just popped into my head there."

"Sooo," Mabel asked McGucket. "Did you ever talk to you son about how you felt?"

"No sir," he replied. "I got to work straight on the robot." He pulled a lever, and a projector and projector screen popped up, revealing the blueprints of the Gobblewonker robot. "I made lots of robots in my day." He clicked a button to change the picture slide on the projector. A news article photo showed a robot pterodactyl in flight spewing fire and terrorizing townspeople. "Back when my wife left me and I created a homicidal Pterodactyl-Tron. Oh," he changed the slide to a photo of a man, "and my pal, Ernie, didn't come to my retirement party," the slide changed to robot shooting fire from his fire...arm "and I constructed an eighty-ton _Shame-Bot_ that EXPLODED the entire downtown area!" He laughed his maniacal laugh, and I wrapped my arms protectively around the twins. _No wonder his wife left him,_ I thought.

"Well, time to get back to work on my death ray." He ducked back into the robot control room, and we heard sawing, drilling, and jackhammer sounds come from inside. His hand popped back up."Any of you kids got a screwdriver?"

"You know, Stan might not be perfect," I remarked. "But he went to some trouble bringing us out here, so we could have fun together. I just wish I realized that sooner."

"We all do," replied Dipper.

"I don't," said Soos. "I was just driving."

"Well," said a disappointed Dipper, removing his camera. "So much for the photo contest."

"We still have one roll of film left," replied Mabel.

"What do you wanna do with it?" Dipper asked.

"I think I have an idea," I said with hopefully smile. _It's not too late._

The sun was setting behind the cliffs that fringed the lake, and Stan, the last lone fisherman, was despondently making his way back to shore. He sighed. Nothing had gone as he planned. His relatives ditched him, his Family Fun Day was a bust, and he caught nothing at all that day. Even his tenant left him stranded by the dock. He was really looking forward to spend some actual quality time with his grand-nephew and grand-niece (maybe even his tenant); why he even went to the trouble of making hats for those kids. But they didn't want to be bothered with him. No one did.

"Hey! Over here!" called Dipper. We saw that the S.S. Cool Dude was still functional, and had set it out in pursuit of Stan. We waved as we came in sight, hoping to catch his attention as Soos steered us by.

Dipper took a photo of Stan with the remaining camera. "What the-"said Stan in response. "Kids? I thought you three were off playin' spin the bottle with Soos."

"Well," replied Dipper. "We spent all day trying to find a legendary dinosaur."

"But," Mabel added. "We realized that the only dinosaur we want to hang out with is right here."

"Save your sympathy!" replied Stan dismissively. "I've been having a great time without cha." He counted off his fingers as he spoke. "Making friends, talking to my reflection, I had a run in with the lake police. Guess I got to wear this ankle bracelet now, so that'll be fun."

"So I guess there isn't room in that boat for four more?" asked Dipper.

Stan squinted at us suspiciously. Dipper and Mabel placed the hats he made for them on their appreciatively. _I hope he makes a quick decision,_ I thought. _What's left of this boat's sinking._

"You knuckleheads ever seen me thread a hook with my eyes closed?" asked Stan by means of invitation.

"Five bucks says you can't do it," challenged Dipper.

"You're on!" replied Stan. Dipper hopped aboard.

"Five more bucks says you can't do it with your eyes closed, plus me singing at the top of my lungs!" challenged Mabel.

"I like those odds," said Stan. Mabel got aboard the STANOWAR.

"It feels good to be called a knucklehead again," I said, coming aboard.

Soos just invited himself on board since his boat was pretty much swamped. "Whoa," remarked Stan. "What happened to your shirt?"

"Long story, dude," said Soos in response.

"All right, everybody get together," said Dipper. He held his disposable camera for a picture. "Say: fishing!"

"Fishing," the rest of us said. "Dude, am I in the frame?" asked Soos. Dipper snapped the photo, and captured a moment to remember, and many more.

After that, I asked Stan, "Does this mean that I can call you 'Grunkle' now?"

"That's going too far, kid," Stan replied.

"How 'bout 'uncle?'"

"Still too far."

"Oh come on, it ain't that bad, 'Uncle Stan.'"

"That does sound weird," replied Mabel.

"Agreed; I'll stop," I conceded.

With the waning sunlight hours, we fished, heard poor jokes, stole someone else's catch, and Stan had another run in with the lake police. All in all, a day redeemed.

The memories we were making reminded me of some that I had forgotten: my dad, brothers, and I rowing a canoe down the Susquehanna River in Pennsylvania, taking photos of our family at Niagara Falls in New York, fishing off a pier in New Jersey. Driving home, with no fish caught, my dad remarked, "I had a good time, didn't you kids?

"But dad, we didn't catch anything. How is that fun?" one of my brothers asked.

"But that doesn't matter. All that matters to me is that I had fun with my family."

I didn't understand it any more than my brothers did at the time. But sometimes even boring lessons, like patience for a fish to bite, can teach us something that will be remembered and cherished forever: how to appreciate your family.

As we returned at last back to the shore for home after a long day of fun, thrills, and adventure,

I settled down in the boat, and began writing another entry in my journal. I had brought it in my backpack and left it at the dock by mistake, but Stan decided to bring it in his boat. Somehow, it survived being soaked more than once. My entry was short:

_Well God, today we hunted for and found the legendary Gobblewonker. It was an adventure that taught me the importance of family togetherness as well as determine that beavers are notoriously protective of their homes. _

_ Even though it almost killed us, I almost wish that the Gobblewonker was real. The creature would be like a leviathan; outrageously huge, faster than waves, mysterious as the ocean. It's eyes would glow, and it would evade detection by swimming into the depths of the lake. It's aquatic like a seal, but of course would have to come up for air, but it would be so discreet, that even if it were close to a fisherman, he wouldn't recognize-_

We hit a bump in the lake. "What was that?" questioned Dipper. Mabel shrugged. I wondered about it, but decided to finish my thoughts in my writing. After another harrowing adventure, Dipper decided to let the Gobblewonker mystery be left unsolved, and let the camera with the evidence sink into the murky depths. But as the camera sank, an aquatic creature swam by and swallowed it, descending into the deep darkness of the lake.

When we got home, the twins had almost fallen asleep on the way back, so they went to bed straightaway. Before Stan went to retire to his room, I mentioned something. "Stan, I'm sorry that we didn't want to go fishing with you earlier. I hadn't considered your feelings, and that was rude of me." I had written an apology to God as well, but He wasn't the one who needed to hear it. "Can you forgive me?"

"Oh, save your sympathy," he dismissed, but with a tone that said all was forgiven. "I just need to keep a better eye on you, make sure you don't lure those kids into trouble."

Seeing that he had forgiven me and already moved on, I replied, "Me? Trouble? I'm not the one with the ankle bracelet."

"Touche."

I laughed. I thought of one question that begged to be asked. "Soooo, are we friends?"

"Yeah, sure," Stan said nonchalantly, but he took off his fishing hat and placed it on my head. "Just don't call me 'uncle,' and we'll be _best_ buddies. Well, see ya tomorrow." He walked off to his bedroom.

I removed his fishing hat, smiled at it, and took it with me upstairs to my own room, already falling asleep.

Earlier, while Stan was telling jokes, another pelican (or maybe the same one) landed on Stan's boat, and Mabel jumped at the chance of telling one of her own lame puns. "Who wants to hear a joke?" She made the pelican her puppet again.

"Not me," replied Dipper.

"He-yeh- Yeah, you do. Here it goes. Why did the _pelican _get kicked out of the _restaurant_?"

"I don't caaaare."

"'Cause he had a very _big bill_. La, la, la, la. Yuk, yuk, yuk. Blah, bleh, bluh."

Dipper groaned. "Boooo. Bad joke. Bad pelican joke."

"Yay, hooray!"

_A/N Hey-lo fellow readers! I was thinking about maybe going a little off the wall and placing a short between each actual episode. Since the Gravity Falls shorts are, of course, short, I figured that they would help give me the space to develop Isannah's character a little more since the episodes are pretty much all fully scripted out and leave little room for adding much without changing the story or affecting the flow too much. I know that the shorts weren't aired until after almost the end of Season 1, but since they have no real time reference as to when they might take place within the series (except for the shorts where Waddles and Mabel's friends appear), I figured that I could get away with adding in a least a few here and there between actual episodes. What do you guys think? Give me your opinions in the reviews section and let me know._


	9. Ch8: Fixin' It With Soos: Cuckoo Clock

_A/N: WARNING: This story has been revised from it's original version. It has been formatted to make better sense and reveal better character development. Many thanks again to AsTheDragonFlies for reviewing and telling me to go forth with the idea of using shorts, and for the great and obvious suggestion of having Dipper actually go to church with Isannah (you rock dude!). I've decided that I'm going to place a chapter with a short after every two episodes. I'm know that the shorts weren't aired until later in the series, so I'm going to try to fit them in context with the episodes that appear before them as best I can. AIFKU PDEO NAREOEKJ!_

Chapter 8: Fixin' It With Soos: The Cuckoo Clock

_ Ah, 7 a.m. on a Sunday morning,_ I thought, pouring myself coffee and trying to blink the sleepiness out of my eyes. I guess the smell of toast and coffee coaxed the twins out of bed, because Dipper and Mabel came downstairs, yawning and stretching in their pajamas.

"Morning, Pinecones," I said to them, spreading butter on my toast. The nickname was what "knucklehead" was to Stan (although I wouldn't call Stan a Pinecone for fear of being evicted).

"Mornin,'" yawned Dipper. "Why are you up and dressed so early, Isannah?" asked Mabel. "It's only seven forty five."

"Gosh, I've gotta get moving!" I stuffed grabbed eggs from the fridge, toss a pan on the stove, popped more the toast in the toaster, and hurried to grab plates from the cupboard.

"What's the rush, Iz?" asked Dipper puzzled. "It's Sunday."

"Exactly!" I said, cracking a couple of eggs in the stove. "I have church!"

"Oooooh," they said in unison. "But what do you do in church?" asked Mabel.

"It's like college," explained Dipper. "She goes there to get a lecture about what she's doing wrong, and then learns how to live her life the right way."

"If that's your _only_ idea of church, then _you_ need to be educated," I replied, grabbing my mug and pouring another does of coffee. "Church is so much more than that."

"How?"

"It's a place where Christians gather to talk, eat, sing, and enjoy being with each other because they all have a common belief in God," I explained, pulling the orange juice out of the fridge, and glasses from the cupboard. "I like the worship services the most, when we sing about how thankful we are to God about our lives. It puts you in the right mindset; it's Sunday, the start of the week, you'll be going back to work and to school, you'll be having problems and issues, you know, stuff you don't look forward to. Singing to God makes you happy and puts you in a joyful mood. Giving the first day of the week to God and being thankful for what He's done and is going to do in our lives makes it all worthwhile."

The twins looked at each other at this thought.

"Unless of course the songs picked to sing by the worship team are meant to put you in a sad and repentant mindset, then you'll go around all week mopping and wondering if you can change and if your soul is in the right place or just on it's way to-"

"Eggs are burning!" cried Mabel, pointing at the stove. I saved them, and scraped them off the pan with a spatula. I gave them each a slice of toast, and poured them juice. I finished off my meal with gusto.

"Well, I need to be there in a half hour," I mentioned, heading back up the stairs to grab my shoes and a pair of toe socks. "You guys wanna come with me?"

"I would," said Mabel. "But I think that Grunkle Stan needs some help redecorating the place," she gestured dramatically. "So, I'm gonna help him today."

"What about you, Dipper?" I asked. "Got anything to do today?"

"Um, not really," he said. "I guess I could-"

"Great! Let's go!" I grasped his wrist and dragged him up the stairs with me. "Grab your hat, grab your shoes, and grab a notebook, 'cause today, you're going to be educated!"

Mabel continued to eat her breakfast when Stan walked into the kitchen.

"Mornin' Mabel," said her great-uncle. "Where's the fast-talker and the paranoid at?"

"They're getting ready for church," she replied, sipping her orange juice.

"Oh great, _two_ fanatics in this house," he muttered. He went to grab himself a mug for coffee, when me and Dipper ran into the room. "Morning Stan! I'mtakingDippertochurch!Don'tworryhewon'tbeindoctrinatedbytheendoftheday!MindifIborrowthekeyforthegolfcart?Thanks!We'llbebackforlunch!YesIdiddrinktomuchcoffee!Loveyouguys!Weneedtogo!Bye!" I blitzed out of the kitchen, carrying a Bible under one arm, and Dipper in the other.

Stan stood in the doorway, watching his tenant and grand-nephew take off down the road. "Sheesh, if she would only get to _work_ that fast everyday," he muttered.

_-cue theme song-_

I drove us down the road to Holy Spirit Baptist Church. I was trying to control the caffeine overdose I was experiencing. I didn't want to be a stumbling block to the younger or newer Christians with my unintended misuse of coffee. Dipper sat uneasily in the seat next to me, trying to buckle his seat belt.

"Why didn't we just take Grunkle Stan's car?" he asked me.

"You really think that he would want _me_ to drive _his_ car?" I asked with deliberate slowness.

"Point taken," he said.

"Besides," I replied, trying to control the speed of my words. "I'm not pulling into church with a car that has the name 'El Diablo' on the side."

"I don't know about this, Iz," he said to me.

"What's bothering you?" I asked him.

"I've never been to church. I won't know what to do, or how to pray, or how to dress-"

"At the church where were we're going, none of that matters. All you have to do is show up. And if you get confused about what you should do, you just tell me and I'll guide you through it all."

He didn't seem much happier about the idea, but didn't say anything more on the matter. The town church steeple finally came into view.

The ground was soaked in last night's dew. I was just glad that it hadn't rained last night, or I would be coated with mud from my sneakers to the hems of my slacks. I was also glad that this particular church had no set dress code. Not that I would dress slovenly, but I wasn't used to wearing dresses and skirts for church. I never had to in my father's church, anyway.

We pulled into the driveway, just as Dipper asked me, "Sooo, what kind of church _is_ this one?"

"It's built like a traditional one; it's got the tall steeple, wide wooden pews, churchgoers who have been attending it for most of their lives. It's a simple church, nothing fancy. No stain-glass, no big music band or choir, no venerated sepulchers of past saints or rich town residents. It's my kind of place."

We walked through to the door, and were greeted by the church's freckly usher, Simon Zealot.

"Good morning," he said to us. Dipper glanced nervously at me, and I replied "Good morning, Simon." Dipper replied with "Uhhh, good morning, Simon."

"A friend of yours, Isannah?" he asked me.

"Yep," I told him. "Letting him come to see what church is all about."

"Have a good time," he said as we moved inside.

"That's the usher," I explained to Dipper. "He's someone who stands by the door in the morning and greets whoever walks into church to make them welcome."

"OK, sooo, now where do we sit?" he asked. "Is there some sort of seating arrangement here? What's the program?"

"Oh, we sit wherever we want," I said. "Though usually we just kinda form a habit of sitting-"

I was interrupted in my thoughts by a "Izzy, Izzy! Sit next to me!" It was the voice of five-year-old auburn haired Ruthie, a little girl who came to church with her grandparents, Mr. and Mrs. Constant. Her ten-year-old sister, Naomi sulked in the pew her family sat in.

"I'm coming, Ruthie!" I called. "Here, let's go sit next to them." I waved him over to the pew the family was sitting in, and Dipper followed me, scribbling something inside a notebook. He was actually taking notes. Well, I guess that to him, church was an anomaly, an unknown. He was curious about this place. I felt hopeful he would get some answers.

"Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Constant," I greeted. "Hey Ruthie, hey Naomi."

"Hey, Izzy!" Ruthie squeezed a hug into my midsection, while Naomi just gave me a hostile glare.

"Didn't I tell you last week to us 'Maylyn' and 'George?'" said Mrs. Constant. "Mrs. Constant is my mother-in-law, and I'd rather not be referred to her."

"Then why did you marry?" joked her husband.

"Because no one else would," she replied jokingly back. I introduced Dipper."This cool guy here is my pal, Dipper. He'll be joining us for Sunday school."

"Um, hi," Dipper waved awkwardly.

"That's a funny name," Ruthie said to him.

"Ruthie, don't be rude," scolded her grandmother.

"Uh, it's OK- I don't mind," he replied. "It is kinda a weird nickname."

"Are you a Christian?" she asked him.

"Oops, here Ruthie, you wanna sit next to me?" I interrupted, seating myself between them. "Yes!" She eagerly took her spot next to me on my left, and Dipper sat to my right. I handed Dipper a pamphlet. "This is today's schedule for the service, but that's for the adults who are listening to the main service," I explained. "They don't have a youth group organized yet, so you'll be in the Sunday school for today."

"What's youth group and Sunday school?" he whispered, not wanting to make it obvious that today was his first day at church.

"Sunday school is like a class where kids learn lessons from the Bible," I whispered back. "A youth group is similar, but is for older kids and teenagers."

"Why are you whispering?" asked Ruthie.

"I can't tell you," I whispered back. "It's a secret."

"Why can't you tell me?" she asked again.

"If I told you, it wouldn't be a secret anymore," I replied, tousling her hair till she laughed.

Dipper scanned the congregation as more people filed in. "Is this it?"

"Is what it?" I asked him.

"Is this just everyone who comes here?"

"We don't get a lot of people here," answered Mr. Constant, who moved to pew behind us to speak with Dipper. "We sometimes got the odd tourist or vacationer who wondered in here to get church checked off their checklist, or who are committed enough to pull off the road and listen to a godly message for the day. But we have the usual mix. Mrs. Callow, the woman who always sits in the back and organizes church gatherings, the Dale family, that huge family right across from us, including their Uncle George. He's one of the professors in Isannah's community college. And there's old Jemima Fluke, a self-proclaimed prophetess who's otherwise a kind if not mislead woman."

"Oh George!" scolded his wife.

"I'm only speaking the truth, Maylyn," he replied to her. "Oh, and those kids up on the stage there are the worship team, Rad, Chad, and Indigo. They're cousins. And that fine gentleman in the very front row is Pastor Warm."

While the worship team sang the opening song, Reverend Luke Warm took his place at his podium. His wife, son, and daughter sat in the very front row, wearing their meticulous clothes and sedulously curled hair. Not that I had any personal dislike for the family, but the Warm siblings never wanted to be bothered with anyone other than the worship team or their friends who would meet them after the service. And the daughter actually seemed snide to compliments, particularly from those with a seemingly lower position in church politics.

Before sitting down a few rows behind, the usher, Simon Zealot, walked by and said, "Hey, Summer, did you cut your hair? It looks nice."

"Save it, Simon Smellot," she muttered. "I know you're dying to date me."

"I wasn't trying to hit on you. I was just making a genuine-"

"I don't want to hear it. You dumped me because you said, 'I need to refocus my life on God before I can think of dating now.' Aren't I as important to you as God is?"

"Yeah, but God has to be the center-"

"Stop wasting your breath," replied her brother, Augustus. "Or we'll have a little talk with our father, and he'll rebuke you and kick you out of the congregation. Now get behind me!"he said, quoting Jesus about Satan. Dejected and stung, Simon headed to the back row.

"I see why he broke up with her," remarked Dipper.

"Those two are Summer and Augustus," explained Mrs. Constant. "They're the pastor's children."

"No way," replied Dipper incredulously.

"It just shows you how some pastors families are when the love of God doesn't mean anything to their kids," said George Constant. "Their parents don't raise 'em up right, and they think that just 'cuz they know the Bible, they're holy enough to treat people the way they do."

"It happens to a lot of Christian families," I told Dipper. "But not to all. It depends on how the kids are raised by their parents, but also on the personal choices of the kids themselves."

Then Pastor Warm bid us all good morning and told us to rise up together and worship God. I was glad, because I feared that I would sound defensive. After all, I was a pastor's kid myself.

"F-f-f-fixin' it with _Soos_!"

_-cue Fixin' It With Soos theme song-_

_ Scene:_ Soos stands in his bedroom of the Mystery Shack, ready to introduce a problem he can solve.

"Hey dudes," waves Soos. "Welcome to Fixin' It With Soos. The only home fix-it show that I edited myself on my own computer.'

**"High five!"** An enormous hand comes on the screen next to Soos, who high fives it. "Thanks clip art hand." The hand moves off screen. "Today, I have this broken cuckoo clock." He shows said broken cuckoo clock. "As you can see, it's _tore_ up from the _floor_ up. Stan knocked it down the other day by accident."

_ Flashback_: Stan is standing over the cuckoo clock with a bat in his hands in the living room.

"STOP MAKING THAT NOISE!" Stan yells, smashing the cuckoo clock on the floor. "I HATE YOU! This is definitely _not_ an accident!"

_Flashback ends._

"I'm gonna fix it up," explains Soos. "And when I'm done, Stan will rate my handiwork on the Awesome-ometer." He lifts up a large card stock with a drawn thermometer and the word "Awesome-ometer."

**"High five!" **the clip art reappears. "Not- not now, bro," replies Soos, waving him off.

_ Scene transition_: Duct tape! Wood glue! Hey, you!

After the worship service, the children all filed down to the finished basement for Sunday School. Dipper and I followed after Ruthie, Naomi, and the Dale kids, who were taught by Mrs. Dale and me. Well, sort of; I was more of an assistant. We all filed into a line as we headed downstairs. Dipper looked a little uneasy, like it was the first day of actual school.

"Come on, Dipper," I encouraged. "It may be a little juvenile, but it'll be fun, I promise."

"OK," he followed me the rest of the way down.

We all sat around a table, while Mrs. Dale went up to a white board and began to draw out today's lesson. Mrs. Dale was a nice black woman, with hair neatly constructed into tiny braids. She apparently hired at least three babysitters five days a week to get chores done, have some spare time for her hair, and time to bake snacks for her Sunday School class. It wasn't hard for her so much teaching as it was keeping her kids under control.

"All right, everyone," started Mrs. Dale. "Today, we're going to learn about-Randy, Mommy's talking now, thank you. Today, we're going to learn about David and Goliath being able to-Michelle, don't pass notes to Naomi- to overcome our fears and dangers. Now, we're going to start with- Mickey, I see you making faces over there!- reading the story of David in the book of- You two stop kicking each other under the table right now!- first Samuel, chapter- I mean it you two! Knock it out!- Seventeen, verse- Don't make me come over there!- verse one. Now let's get started- Deborah, take your finger out of your nose,_ please_."

While we did a semi-focused lesson on the story of David and Goliath and the meaning in the story, I helped Mrs. Dale by separating the trouble-makers with different activities, like having a brother and sister color pages from a coloring book, or having wild Randy work with glum Naomi on decorating a felt board. I worked the most with Ruthie. She was a shy girl, and didn't really know how to interact with the sprightly children of the Dale family.

"Here, Ruthie," I said. "Do you want me to help you cut out your 'sword of the spirit?'" It was in an activity book, with the verse "No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. - Romans 8:37, NIV.

"Sure," she replied, handing me the scissors she was holding dangerously in her tiny hands.

"Oh wait, you didn't color it," I remarked. "Why don't you color it?"

"Can you help me?" she asked, holding a yellow crayon.

"Nice color choice," I answered, guiding her hand around the edges of her cut out sword.

"Thanks, Izzy," she answered.

All this time, Dipper sat across from me, flipping pages of an open Bible, and seeming lost in the pages. "What are you looking for, Dipper?" I asked, while Ruthie continued where I left off.

"I'm just trying to figure out where the history of the Israelites starts," he told me. "I figured out where the history of the world starts, but I'm trying to find out where Saul where first became king. I got lost somewhere in Leviticus."

"Oh, try reading the beginning of first Samuel," I suggested. That's where the history is. The books of Leviticus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy are mostly books of Jewish law, but there are some stories about what happens to the Israelites. If you want to know how the Israelites got to the Promised Land, then got back further into the last chapters of Genesis and the book Exodus, and into the last chapters of Deuteronomy, and read the book of Joshua."

"Izzy, can you cut out my sword?" piped Ruthie.

"Sure thing, kiddo," I said, taking the scissors again and cutting closely along the edge.

"So, how's the Bible interesting you?" I asked Dipper while concentrating on my task.

"These stories are unbelievable!" he replied. "Who knew that there was so much supernatural activity in the Middle East? There were giants, angels, demons, and- and this is all recorded in history!"

"It gets better," I told him. "What till you read about the Flood, and about Moses and the Burning Bush, and the talking donkey, and the day the sun didn't set, and-"

"Wait- don't spoil it for me!" he cried, flipping through chapters. "If I had only known that the Bible had so many supernatural occurrences recorded, I would've bought one years ago."

"The history's most widely read book satisfies again," I remarked. I had finished cutting out Ruthie's sword, which she waved heroically.

"Careful there, Ruthie," I said. "You wouldn't want to accidentally hurt someone with that sharp sword."

"I'm David's sister, and you're Goliath's sister," she replied, beaming a baby-toothed smile.

"Better watch out," I warned. "Your brother killed my brother, and I'm not happy about that at all." I stood on my toes, and pretended to growl like bear.

"Oh no, I'm not scared of you! I got the sword of the spirit!"

"Oh no! My weakness! Don't come near me with that! No! No!" I began running in circles while she chased me, until she stabbed me in my calf. Dipper just continued to read the Bible.

"Oh, you got me!" I went down like a tower of blocks, and she stood on top of me in victory.

"I killed her!" she called triumphantly.

"I hope not," remarked Mrs. Dale. "Now that's enough, you two. It's snack time."

While Ruthie ran to get her apple juice and cookies, I slowly got up from the floor and chuckled to myself. I knew that after snack time I was going to help Randy clean up the mess he made with the felt board, and try to engage Deborah and Ruthie in a game of "Slingshot Bowling" (without the actual slingshot), but it never got tedious. Spending time with these kids was the best time of my week.

Dipper got up last to grab a cookie, still absorbed in Scripture.

_With all the fun we're having,_ I thought. _I wonder what fun Mabel and Soos are having without us at the Mystery Shack._

_Scene_: Soos' room, where Soos is holding up the taped up cuckoo clock. "Almost there," says Soos. "Although something's off." The bottom half of the clock falls apart. Soos ponders his dilemma.

"Aha!" he exclaims. "It needs decorations!" Mabel then walks into the room, sipping from a juice box.

"Oooo, make it leopard print," she suggests.

The next shot shows the clock in leopard print and a dangling fuzzy dice. Mabel is now eating a bag of chips.

"Ahhhh, what else does it need?" she asks.

"A beach house!" replies Soos. "So the cuckoo can live in style."

_Scene ends_.

_Scene_: Soos' room, where Soos and Mabel have added a beach house next to the clock, along with some toy birds next to the cuckoo bird's hollow.

"Now the bird's gonna need some homies," says Soos.

_Scene change for close up_.

Soos points to each bird he placed and names them. "I'll call you Curt, Jayden, Carlos, and Diandre."

_Scene change to just Soos and Mabel, who name off other decorations for the cuckoo clock._

"Some boom boxes!" says Soos.

"A slide, and a ball pit!" says Mabel.

"A pyro-technics kit!"

"_Real_ animal fur!"

"Lasers! LASERS, DUDE!"

_Scene change: _Still Soos' room. Something glows off screen, the project which Soos and Mabel have decorated together.

"What do you think?" asks Mabel.

"It's too dull," says Soos. "I can't cope!"

_Scene ends._

The class cleaned up the mostly Dale made mess, and we headed downstairs to either go home, mingle with some of the fellow churchgoers, or else remain for a Bible study. Dipper and I remained to mingle with some of the churchgoers.

Dipper asked Mrs. Dale, "Say, I was wondering if I could borrow this book?"

"The children's Bible?" she asked for clarification.

"Sure," he said. "It's a long book, and I'd like to finish reading through some of the stories."

"I have a Bible at home, Dipper," I said. "You could borrow mine."

"You sure?" he asked, handing the Bible back to Mrs. Dale.

"Of course! In fact, I actually have a study Bible you can read. It gives you information on the culture of the day, and has biographies of the Bible characters, it's a great tool for understanding the rest of text."

"All right," he said. "Can you give it to me when we get back to the Mystery Shack?"

"Dude, you can have that book for the whole summer," I said as we walked out the door to the golf cart. "You think you want to come back next week? I hear that Mr. Dale is going to start a youth group and get his oldest kids involved."

Dipper contemplated this thought for a moment. His pensive look made me think that maybe he wouldn't want to come back. Just as I started the cart, he said, "Only if Mabel comes with us."

I couldn't contain my smile. We drove out of the driveway, and back to the Shack.

_Scene:_ Living room, where Soos stands next to the cuckoo clock, ready to unveil it for Stan to see. Mabel stands next to him, holding the 'Awesome-ometer,' while Stan stands across form them, arms crossed, looking bored.

"Mr. Pines," says Soos. "Are you ready for the grand unveiling of your brand new cuckoo clock?"

"You've joined forces with Mabel," Stan replies. "This is an unsettling development."

Soos pulls the cover off the clock. "Voila!"

The cuckoo clock is crazy assortment of music, lights, a toy beach house, speakers, a gumball machine, a satellite, a pair of sunglasses, a wig, a toy car, a syrup bottle with the top of a baseball trophy, are marquee scrolling the message "THIS IS AN AWESOME CUCKOO CLOCK," among other things.

"So Stan, what do you think?" asks Soos.

Stan gives the creation a puzzling look."Why is it permanently set to 1:50?"

"It's hands are in the air," replies Soos, "like it just doesn't care." Out of the cuckoo hollow springs a thumbs up that says "RAD." Soos holds it in his arms and asks Stan, "So, one to ten; what do you give it?"

"Well," says Stan. "It doesn't make that horrible cuckoo sound anymore, so- I don't know- ten out of ten- whatever."

Soos is so happy he drops the cuckoo clock and it breaks to pieces.

_Scene ends._

_ Scene transition: _Lots of explosions, most of them with problems. **SOLVED!**

_Scene_: Soos computer room, with Soos sitting near the desk of his computer, where it is still rendering the previous scene transition.

"Join us next time as we fix my computer," he says, "because I think I crashed it permanently making some of those graphics."

His computer proceeds to explode and catch fire.

"Did we get that? Save it for the explosions reel!"

"Hey guys!" I called from downstairs. "We're ho-ome!

"What's burning?"asked Dipper.

_Scene ends._


	10. Ch9: Headhunters: Mabelangelo

Chapter 9: Headhunters: Mabelangelo

It was an easy afternoon in the Mystery Shack. We were watching the TV show Duck-tective, Dipper eating popcorn, and Mabel and I knitting while we watched. I guessed that Mabel was knitting a sweater, but I was knitting a pair of socks. My first pair too. It would explain if they didn't fit, or had several toes too many.

"I'm afraid your services won't be required here sir," said a constable on screen. Mabel reached for a handful of popcorn, but Dipper slapped her hand away. "My men have examined the evidence and this is obviously an accident." He gestured to a body squeezed whose limbs had been squeezed into the door of phone booth.

A duck walked up to the booth, quaking what is presumably subtitled on the screen. "Accident, constable? Or is it..." He dramatically looks at the camera. "Murder?!"

"What?!" the constable. A duck foot logo popped on the screen with the caption "Duck-tective."

"Duck-tective will return after these messages," announced an announcer.

Mabel dropped her knitting, and her pupils dilated. "That duck is a _genius_."

"Ehh," said her brother. "It's easier to find clues when you're that close to the ground."

"Are you saying you could outwit Duck-tective?" questioned his sister doubtfully.

"Mabel, I have very keen powers of observation," said Dipper. "For example, just by smelling your breath, I can tell that you have been eating..." he paused for a moment, and took a couple of whiffs to identify what she consumed "... an entire tube of toothpaste?"

Mabel turned away, appearing to regret that idea. "It was so sparkly."

"Betcha can't guess what I was eating," I said with a confident smirk.

"Well, judging by that corn kernel between you're front teeth, I'd say that you were sneaking handfuls of my popcorn into your mouth."

I then closed my lips, trying to floss out the incriminating evidence with my tongue. I smiled again. "You have no way of proving that."

"Hey, dudes." As we turned to the sound of Soos' voice, he slid down the hall, broom in hand, with an excited grin on his face. "You'll never guess what I found!"

"A closet that opens into the _Twilight Zone_?" I guessed, sneaking another handful of popcorn.

"Buried treasure!" guessed Dipper.

"Buried-eh heh hey-" Mabel shoved her brother. "_I_ was gonna say that."

We followed Soos to the top floor, and down a dark unused corridor. Mabel placed a hand on Dipper's shoulder for security, and took my left hand for assurance. "So I was cleaning up," Soos explained, "when I found this secret door hidden behind the wallpaper. It's crazy bonkers creepy. " He showed us a door that had been previously concealed by the wallpaper, but now had the outline cut out and opened. Soos pushed the door open further, and the distant light from the hall revealed a room filled with...

… wax figures.

"_Whoa_," whispered Dipper, turning on a flashlight. "It's a secret wax museum." He paned the flashlight beam around the silent figures.

"Either that or this is the fate of all those tourists who never bought anything and never made it back to their cars," I remarked. "Maybe Stan taxidermed them." I wouldn't put it past him.

"They're so lifelike," remarked Mabel, touching one with the tip of her finger.

"Except for that one," Dipper said, pointing to a figure that had a small but pronounced belly. "Hello," said the figure.

We screamed in terror.

Dipper brought the beam to the figure's face. "Heh heh, it's just me, your Grunkle Stan."

We screamed in terror and ran out of the room.

_-cue Gravity Falls theme song- _

After we recovered from our scare, Stan found the light switch for the room, and showed us his marvelous collection. "Behold, the Gravity Falls Wax Museum," Stan introduced us. "It was one of our most popular attractions... before I forgot all about it. I got 'em all." He pointed to each wax figure as he listed them off. "Genghis Khan, Sherlock Holmes, some kinda..." He paused at a figure of Larry King. "I don't know- goblin man."

Dipper looked like he would gag. "Is anyone else getting the creeps here?" he asked.

"Yeah, my skin's crawling," I said in agreement. I bumped into something, and glanced beside me at a wax figure of Anton LaVey. I gave a brief and shrill shriek, and moved rapidly away from the Satanist figure.

"And now for my personal favorite," Stan continued, "Wax Abraham Lincoln, right over-oh- OH! Oh no!" There was nothing in the figure's place but an open window of sunlight and a melted puddle (next to an angry looking woman figure holding an ax). "Come on! Who left the blinds open?Wax John Wilkes Booth, I'm lookin' in your direction." He bent down to inspect the damage. "How do ya fix a wax figure?" He drew a finger through the melted wax, and gazed sadly at his once favorite figure.

"Cheer up, Grunkle Stan," Mabel tried to console. "Where's that _smi-le_?"

"Neh," he said.

"Beep, bop, boop!" said Mabel, poking his face with each word.

"Ow," he replied. He stood up, no doubt to prevent her from reaching his face.

"Don't worry, Grunkle Stan," she told him. "I'll make you a _new_ wax figure from all this old wax."

"You really think you could make one of these puppies?" he asked her.

"Grunkle Stan," she said in a professional tone. "I'm an arts and crafts master. Why do you think I always this glue gun stuck to my arm?" She showed said glue gun stuck to the sleeve of her right arm, and tried to shake it off.

"I like you're gumption, kid," her great-uncle replied.

"I don't know what that word means, but thank you."

Later, Mabel sat with a block of wax in an empty room, sketching ideas. I was in the room with her, helping to sketch some ideas together while procrastinating on homework. Dipper went to check his twin's progress, sipping from a can of Pitt soda pop.

"Dipper!" Mabel jumped the step ladder she had sat on, surprising Dipper to drop his can and inhale his beverage. He spluttered and coughed.

"What do you think of my wax figure idea?" she asked, showing him her sketch. "She's part fairy princess, and part horse fairy princess."

"Mmm, maybe you should carve something from _real_ life," her brother suggested.

"Like a waffle," she said, drawing a new picture in her sketchbook. "With big arms."

"Yea-OK, or you know something else. Like- like someone in your family."

"I still think that she should sculpt a Biblical figure," I remarked, showing him a sketch of a shepherd boy. "If Michelangelo could make history crafting a naked David, imagine how famous you'd be dressing him."

"Kids," said Stan walking into the room without wearing pants. "Have you seen my pants?" He stood under a beam of sunlight that leaked into the room, his hand shielding his eyes from the light, as though he were gazing out into the distance, as he stood with a foot atop a briefcase.

Mabel's eyes grew wide. She had found her inspiration.

"Oh, Muse," she whispered. "You work in mysterious ways."

"Why is your sister talking to the ceiling?" Stan asked Dipper.

"Maybe she's praying," I suggested. "I talk to the ceiling all the time when _I_ pray."

Mabel got to work. She carved all afternoon, and finished painting her figure by early evening. When she at last was finished, Dipper, Soos and I gathered into the room to see her masterpiece.

"I think... it needs more glitter," she remarked critically.

"Agree," said Soos, handing her a bucket of glitter. She took the bucket, and threw the contents all over the wax figure.

Stan then walked into the room, thankfully with his pants, but without shoes. "I found my pants," he said, "but now I'm missing my-" he screamed at the sight of Mabel's creation, then began backpedaling across the room until he fell flat on his back.

"What do you think?" asked Mabel.

"I think," Stan said. "The wax museum's back in business!"

With that, Stan set up the Wax Museum of Mystery Grand Re-Opening, and minivans swarmed to the Shack. Soos directed traffic with corn dogs, and Wendy and Dipper handled the admissions table.

"I can't believe this many people showed up," remarked Dipper to Wendy.

"I know, right?" agreed Wendy. "Your uncle probably bribed them or something."

"He bribed me," Dipper affirmed, pulling out a bill. Wendy pulled out one given to her, and the two of them chuckled.

Meanwhile, Soos came up and the stage to help me move the rest of the wax figure collection onto it.

"Don't any of these wax people just scare you?" I asked him.

"Oh yeah," he nodded. "Like the Wax Some Goblin Man. I'm afraid he's going to interview me or something."

"I just hope we left behind that-" but I screamed because, no, Wax Anton LaVey had been brought down for display. "It's _him_! Take him away! Take him away!" I covered my eyes.

"Who's this guy?" Soos asked.

"The man who started the Satanist movement and whose deepest desire is to overtake the weak and destroy the hope of our salvation through Jesus Christ," I replied cowering behind Shakespeare.

"Ooooh, tough break," he said.

"Say, isn't you're whole name 'Jesus?'" I asked him in sudden realization.

"What's _your_ full name?" he asked instead. "I don't remember."

"Isannah Elizabeth Tannenbaum," I replied.

"'Tanning Bomb?'" he asked incredulous. "That's outrageous! In the good way. Ooo! Ooo! Quick, let's do the handshake!" He meant the one that he and Mabel were fond of using, with the fist bump and the explosions. But this time, he said, "Tick," as he held out his fist. So I copied him, not sure where this was going yet, saying, "Tick." Soos finished with a "BOOM! Tanning Bomb! Dude, we should call you something like 'The I-Bomb' or 'I-namite.'"

But before I could respond, Stan called us to our places, and Soos and I stood to one side of the stage while we waited for Stan and Mabel to unveil the newest addition to the museum.

Mabel stood on stage in front of the Shack, patting her face in excitement. She stood under a sign that claimed "Eighth Wonder of The World," Soos stood on the other side of the stage, and Stan stood behind a podium with the whole wax collection, including her shrouded creation. He coughed, tapping the microphone as means of a sound test, and the townspeople and tourists who sat in rows in front of the stage grimaced at the sound.

"You all know me folks," began Stan. "Town-darlin', Mr. Mystery. _Please_, ladies! Control yourselves."

The only single women in the crowd just sat without comment. "Oh brother," I muttered.

"As you know," Stan continued, "I always bring the people of this fair town novelties and befuddlements, the likes of which the _world_ has never _known_. But enough about me." He stepped form the podium to the shrouded wax figure, ad grabbed the draped sheet. "Behold!" -he tugged the sheet off, and revealed a wax sculpture in his likeness, posed smiling with a thumbs up, coated in sparkles- "Me!" Soos pressed a triumphant trumpet sound from a Beeblyboop keyboard of sound effects. He then pressed a "Yea-UH!" sound effect. He pressed this key multiple times.

Two people in the audience were dully impressed, and clapped almost noiselessly. Another coughed. No one looked particularly enthusiastic.

"And now a word from our own, Mabelangelo," Stan said, handing the mic to Mabel. "It's Mabel," she said modestly. She walked downstage to speak to the audience.

"Thank you for coming," she said to the bored, indifferent audience. "I made this sculpture with my own _two_ hands! It's covered in my blood, sweat, tears, and other fluids."

The audience gagged and muttered in disgust.

"Ha ha, yeah," responded Mabel awkwardly. "I will now take questions. You there." She pointed to someone who raised his hand.

"Old Man McGucket, local kook," the man with a Band-aid beard explained himself. "Are the wax figures alive, and, follow up question, can I survive the wax man uprising?"

"Um," Mabel said, not sure how to respond. "Yes! Next question." She pointed to another hand in the audience.

"Toby Determined, Gravity Falls Gossiper," the reporter showed his newspaper, and pointed what looked like a microphone in her direction, "do you really think this constitutes a Wonder of the World?"

"Your microphone's a turkey baster, Toby," mentioned Stan.

Toby looked at it with his oversized eyeglasses."It certainly is-"

"Next question," interrupted Stan.

"Shandra Jimenez, a _real reporter_," said a female reporter. "Your fliers promised free pizza with admission to this event. Is this true?" She held up a flier with the advertisement as she spoke. It did indeed promise pizza.

The crowd grew angry and boisterous at this unrealized promise. Dipper and Wendy glanced at each other, nervously. Soos and I gave each other the same look.

Stan finally said something about that purposefully overlooked detail. "That was a typo. Good night everyone!" He threw a smoke screen onto the stage, and escaped the stage. He grabbed the cash register as he ran by the admissions table.

People began to physically and verbally protest. A man in the audience who brought his "Free Pizza" T-shirt sighed sadly, and walked away, disappointment evident in his gait. An angry woman in the crowd kicked a chair with an elderly woman in it, and grabbed and threw another one. Wendy's father punched a pole holding up the "Wax Museum of Mystery Grand Re-Opening," yelling "In your face!" The fuming crowd quickly dispersed from the event.

Dipper and Wendy sat tensed behind the admissions table. I took to hiding behind the stage, and Soos just continued to play his keyboard, playing "Yeah-UH!" Mabel walked by and leaned on a corner of the admissions table saying "I think that went well."

After sundown, the Pines family and I were situated in the living room. I walked in the room, having just finished washing the dinner dishes, Dipper was reading a chapter of the book of Daniel and sitting atop the T. Rex skull, while Mabel was shining up Wax Stan Pines. Stan was rolling bills in his greedy hands.

"Hot pumpkin pie!" said Stan after counting his earnings. "Look at all this cash! And I owe it all to one person."

Mabel faced him, expecting admiration. "This guy," said Stan, gesturing to his wax twin.

Mabel punched his belly with a smile on her face. "Ooo," said Stan in response. "Heh heh, yeah, you too, you little gremlin," he said, rubbing a hand on the top of her head, and then rubbing her face. "Now you kids wash up. We got another long day of fleecing rubes tomorrow. Go, go!" He pushed us out of the room, Mabel with a bit of a hurt expression on her face.

Stan sighed, and leaned against the wax figure's shoulder. "Kids," he said to Wax Stan.

"You did a great job with that wax figure," I told Mabel as we ascended. "You could put this on your resume, and anyone will have to hire you. Maybe you could even start your _own_ business: self sculptures by Mabelangelo Pines."

"Oh, stop!" she said modestly. But I gushed all the same; considering the reception she had gotten today, she needed some attention to all her hard work. And she didn't protest, which was what I hoped for. We parted at the landing to get into our pajamas.

"Well, Duck-tective," said the constable on the TV show. "It seems you really 'quacked' the case."

"Don't patronize me," quacked the duck detective.

Stan laughed, and hugged the still wax figure around the shoulder. "Ah, stupid duck. Well, I'm gonna use the john." He stood up from the comfortable chair, and headed to the hall. "You need anything?" he asked the figure.

Wax Stan just lay still and sparkled with glitter.

"Heh heh!" Stan laughed. "I love this guy! Don't you go nowhere." He left the room.

Outside, a foreboding gust of wind blew and a wolf howled in the distance. The weathervane eerily creaked on the roof. The wind blew through the window into the upstairs bathroom, where we were taking care of personal hygiene. Mabel and Dipper were brushing their teeth, while I was standing closest to the mirror, brushing my two foot length of blonde hair and checking the mirror for stray strands. It was still damp from a previous shower, but I knew if I didn't get control of it now, it would turn into a frizzy disaster later.

"Dipper, you wanna do a toothbrush race?" asked Mabel from her seat on the edge of the bathtub.

"Ogay," he said, his mouth full of suds.

"Don't swallow anymore toothpaste," I chuckled.

From downstairs came a horrified cry of "No. No! NOOOOOOOOOO!" We raced downstairs, and found a shivering Stan in the dark living room.

"Wax Stan," he said as we arrived. "He's been m-m-MURDERED!"

We all tensed and stared at the now headless form of poor Wax Stan. A grandfather clock chimed a death knell for the fallen figure. BONG. BONG. BONG. Mabel grew faint.

"I'm calling that LaVey was behind this," I responded. "But first, I'm calling the cops."

The local police were phoned in. Gompers, the Mystery Shack goat, was placidly eating grass outside, watching the spinning siren flashed it's blue and red eyes after the officers filed in and took in the situation. In the living room, we all stood or knelt by the headless Wax Stan while Sheriff Blubs sipped coffee and his deputy took notes.

"I get up to use the john, right?" Stan explained to the officers. "And when I come back – BLAMMO! He's headless!"

"My expert handcrafting, besmirched," remarked Mabel in a grievous tone, patting the upper chest of the wax figure. "Besmirched!" She began to weep. Dipper offered her shoulder a comforting hand. "Who would do something like this?" he asked.

"What's your opinion, Sheriff Blubs?" asked Deputy Durland.

"Look, we loved to help you folks," explained the sheriff, "but let's face the facts: this case is _un_solvable."

"WHAT?!" the Pines yelled causing Sheriff Blubs to splash his coffee. "You take that back, Sheriff Blubs!" demanded Stan.

"You're kidding, right?" asked Dipper. "There must be evidence, motives. You know, I could help if you want." He rubbed the back of his neck as a nervous gesture.

"He's really good," affirmed his sister. "He figured out who was eating our tin cans!"

"All signs pointed to the goat," he said.

"Yeah," I agreed. "This guy here helped me find my hairbrush this morning."

"For some reason it was in the vegetable crisper in the fridge, next to a cucumber," he remarked in memory.

"Yeah, yeah, let the boy help," agreed Stan. "He's got a little brain up in his head." Like no one would assume that.

"Ooo," Sheriff Blubs elbowed Deputy Durland. "Would you look at what we got here?" he said in a condescending tone. "_City Boy_ thinks he's gonna solve a mystery with his fancy _computer phone_."

"City BOOOOOOEEE!" hollered Deputy Durland obnoxiously. " City BOOOOOOEEE!"

"You are _adorable_," gushed the sheriff.

"Adorable?" asked Dipper. It wasn't the first word _I_ would have used to describe him. The police men laughed at him. Dipper scowled, obviously ticked off at their comments.

"Look, PJs,"the sheriff addressed Dipper. "How 'bout you leave the investigatin' to the grownups, okay?" He held his hand toward his deputy, who low fived it.

"Hold that thought," I said. "I need to blow my nose. There's an _offensive_ stench in this room." I walked down the hall, giving a pointed glare at the unhelpful and hurtful policemen. I had to leave before I said anything worse.

Sheriff Blubs radio sounded. "Attention all units: Steve is going to fit an entire cantaloupe in his mouth, repeat: an entire cantaloupe."

"It's a twenty-three sixteen!" said the deputy, eager about the challenge.

"Let's move," said the sheriff. They guffawed and laughed as they ran to their vehicle.

"I hope Gompers eats their siren!" I called from the hallway. "Those two windbags are loud enough on their own!" I couldn't hold back my fury anymore.

"That's it!" Dipper fumed. "Mabel, we're are gonna find the jerk who did this, and get back that head! Then we'll see who's adorable." Then, he gave a tiny sneeze.

"Awwww, you sneeze like a kitten," said his sister. Dipper gave her an expressive frown in response.

That was when I blew my nose. "BUUUUUHHHHHH!"

Whenever I did, my nose made a sound like a foghorn: loud and trumpeting. It was only _not_ embarrassing when I was trying to wake up my brothers on Saturday mornings.

"And you blow like a barge," remarked Stan. I blushed red in response. _Serves me right for bad-mouthing the authorities,_ I ruminated. _Even if it was true._


	11. Ch 10: Headhunters: The Wax Murderer

Chapter 9: Headhunters: The "Wax" Murderer

I had difficulty resting that night, unsettled obviously by the sudden "murder" of Wax Stan, and also wondering what called me to say what I had about the sheriff and his deputy. Sure, they weren't helpful, but I knew that what I said wasn't respectful and didn't help anymore than their words had. When I thought about it, I realized that I wasn't just mad for Dipper; I had internalized what the officers said as well. I guess the reason was because when I was Dipper's age, and even after seven years of maturing, people still didn't take me as seriously as I wanted them to. Some of it was my usually kind personality, naivety, and maybe that I was a blonde. I did have a touch of autism, an impression people no doubt got from the awkward way I sometimes behaved socially, or the fact that at times I surprised people with a smart idea. But I believe that some of other people's perception of me stemmed from still being a "young and dumb" teen. Let's face it; being a teenager means people expect you to act like an adult, but they treat you like a kid, even after the age of eighteen. With these thoughts in mind, I fell into a restless sleep.

The twins got me up early the next day, and we searched the scene of the crime for possible clues. Even though today was Sunday, I decided that looking into this murder was important enough to take some time away. After all,what if the culprit was so mad that he was trying to behead _Grunkle _Stan and mistakenly hit Wax Stan?

We set up a criminal investigation. I was continuing to nail toilet paper over the threshold and around the room with red marker warnings like"do not cross" and "crime scene," and Dipper had set up a board of possible suspects.

"Wax Stan has lost his head, and it's up to us to find it," said Dipper while his sister got photos of her besmirched handiwork with a disposable camera. He turned to his board of suspects.

"There were a lot of unhappy customers at the unveiling," Dipper said, peering at the photos of suspects with a discriminating eye. "The murderer could have been anyone."

"Gasp!" said Mabel. "Even _us_!"

I was becoming more afraid for Stan as we worked, which was almost out of character for me. _Those policemen should have been more concerned._

"In this town, anything is possible," replied Dipper, pulling the journal out of his body warmer. He began to flip through it, searching for possible ideas. "Ghosts, zombies, it could be months before we find our first clue."

"Hey, look! A clue," Mabel pointed. A pair of footprints were at the "head" of the headless Stan.

"Footprints in the shag carpet," observed Dipper.

"But those could be ours," I pointed out. "We've been all over this room."

"That's weird," remarked Mabel thoughtfully. "They've got a hole in them."

Dipper followed them to the left arm of the arm chair. "And they're leading to..."

We gasped. There was an ax concealed behind the chair!

We brought it in to the gift shop for Soos to get a look at it. "So what do you think?" asked Dipper. Mabel gave the sharp tool a hard squinted stare, as if trying to envision who used this possible murder weapon to kill her beloved creation.

"In my opinion," replied Soos, testing the feel of the object in his hands, "this is an ax."

"The question we should be asking," I mentioned thoughtfully, "is who we know of from the unveiling yesterday that could wield a weapon like that?"

"Wait a minute," thought Mabel. "The lumberjack!"

In that moment it dawned on Dipper as well. "Of course!" the twins said simultaneously.

Briefly they flashbacked to the moment the lumberjack punched a hole in the pole that held the sign announcing the wax museum's re-opening. "IN YOUR FACE!"

"He was furious when he didn't get that free pizza," recalled Dipper.

"Furious enough for _murrrderrrrr_," agreed Mabel.

"Oh, you mean Manly Dan," said Soos. "Yeah, he hangs out in this crazy intense biker joint downtown."

"Then that's where we're going," remarked Mabel decisively.

"Dude, this is awesome," said Soos. "You two are like the Mystery Twins."

"Don't call us that," replied Dipper.

"You should have heard what he called _me_ yesterday," I remarked.

"Yeah dudes," said Soos. "Did you know her last name was Tanning Bomb?"

"It's Tan-nen-baum," I clarified.

"Yeah, and I was all like 'We should call you 'The I-Bomb.'"

"I prefer 'I-namite.'"

"Awesome! I'm on a roll with these names. Quick! Let's break with the new handshake!"

With Dipper shouldering a backpack holding the ax, we hurried out the front porch of the gift shop where Gompers was chewing, no doubt on more tins cans. We walked briskly past Stan, who was struggling to pull a coffin out the trunk of El Diablo, his car.

"Hey give me a hand with this coffin, will ya?" he said to us. "I'm doin' a memorial service for Wax Stan. Somethin' small, but classy." He pulled again, then rested the upper half of the coffin on the ground to take a breather.

"Sorry Grunkle Stan, but we've got a big break in the case," said Dipper.

"Break in the case!" repeated Mabel.

"We're heading in town right now to interrogate the murderer," explained Dipper.

"And hopefully not get kicked out or harmed as nosy, under aged kids with who have no business in a scary biker joint for oversized men," I added.

"We have an ax," said Mabel, pulling it out from Dipper's backpack. "Ree, ree, ree."

"Huh, this seems like the kind of thing a responsible parent wouldn't want you doin'," said Stan, thoughtfully.

He paused briefly. "Good thing I'm an uncle." He placed a foot atop the coffin, and raised a fist in the air. "Avenge me, kids! AVENGE MEEEEE!"

Downtown in Gravity Falls, we located the biker joint that Soos had referred us to, and hid in a back alley beside the building. Dipper inched his way forward, back pressed against the Dumpster, while Mabel appeared hiding under a garbage bag inside the Dumpster. I just walked casually by behind them.

"Are you guys sure you don't just want me to go in and interrogate Manly Dan for you?" I asked. "I mean, I think that would be a little better, a little wiser, a little _safer_."

"You might need backup in case he's uncooperative," Dipper said. "Guys this tough never want to give you a direct answer."

"Besides," said Mabel. "It's dangerous for a single woman to be alone in such a dangerous place anymore."

"So bringing a couple of twelve-year-old kids into a dark restaurant full of questionable characters is supposed to make me feel safer?" I asked a little sarcastically.

"I knew you'd understand," said Mabel. I rolled my eyes.

Dipper pulled out the address he was given by Soos, saying, "This is the place." We peeked around the corner, and saw an oversized, dangerous looking guy spotted with patches of tattoos (one on his forehead labeled "HEAD," and another on his chin labeled "CHIN") guarding the entrance to "Skull Fracture,"the biker's restaurant. He glanced our way, and we furtively ducked out of sight.

"Got the fake ID's?" Dipper asked his twin. She handed them to him, and he held them to see how they appeared. "Here goes nothing," Dipper said with finality.

I looked over at the fake ID's. "He'll never fall for that_,_"I remarked.

The Skull Fracture bouncer looked over an ID card. "Sorry, but we don't serve miners."

The coal-dust coated miner stomped in frustration. "Daaaagnabbit!" He hocked and spat, then walked away irritated.

Mabel and Dipper approached the bouncer next. "We're here to interrogate Manly Dan the lumberjack for the murder of Wax Stan," said Mabel, and the two of them held out their homemade ID's. They were just photos of them with mustaches and googly eyes, with the aliases "Sir Dippingsauce" and "Lady Mabelton." Dipper's age on the fake ID was 45, and Mabel's was cards had stickers, macaroni, and glitter; Mabel touches. "Dee-de-lee-de-leet!" Mabel shook her card, and made her googly eyes bounce. Their great-uncle's influence of illegal activities was rubbing off on them.

"I'm with them," I said, showing him my driver's license. "And I'm at least over the age of eighteen."

The bouncer looked at our cards. "Works for me." He opened the door, and out poured metal music and the sounds of men fighting and yelling. We walked right in.

It was dimly lit inside, but not so much that we couldn't see why minors (and miners) weren't allowed here. We watched one guy take a punch to his face and lose a tooth. We stood still, listening to the sound of breaking objects and gruff anger, none of us too keen on going anywhere inside yet. Dipper took a glance around, and finally motioned us further in.

I felt like I was walking through a dark, noisy, smelly forest of gorillas rather than the scariest place in town. Men towered far over heads, beating their fists, knocking each other over like trees, and being the general alter ego of gentlemen. I felt like I was a six-grader sharing the halls with the high school boys all over again. Good thing we had a twelve-year-old kid with an ax to protect us.

Mabel stepped over the legs a fallen man. "He's resting," she observed.

"Not in peace?" I asked uneasily.

"All right," Dipper addressed us. "Let's just try to _blend in_, okay?" He began to walk to the other side of the room.

"You got it, Dippingsauce," replied Mabel. I wasn't sure what to do, until Mabel sat up on stool by the bar, next to a burly biker with a Pitt soda pop in his hand. "Hey there, fellow restaurant patron," she addressed him. "Bap." She patted his arm. He looked up, and growled, seeming more like a gorilla than I was happy with.

I pulled up a stool between the two of them, sat down, and was meaning to say "Please don't kill us!" but instead said, "So, you wanna know your future?" _Why did I say _that_?_

"Oh yeah," said Mabel. "My cootie catcher! Thanks for reminding me, Iz. That's a great way to break the ice!" She pulled it out, and began to instruct the biker on how it was used. I sighed out of relief, believing I just saved Mabel's life, and my own.

Meanwhile, Dipper found Manly Dan at the other side of the restaurant, playing with an arm wrestling arcade animatronic called "Bicepticus." He howled as he held the arm, trying to slam it down while the score board beeped a score of 9999.

"Manly Dan," called Dipper. "Just the guy I wanted to see." He wasted no time getting to the point. "Where were you last night?"

"Punchin' the clock!" replied Manly Dan, slamming a fist on the game for emphasis.

"You were at work?"

"Nooo, I was punchin' that clock!" He pointed out the window to the street clock outside, dented from his blows. It was wrecked to the point that the time on it had stopped completely.

"Ten o'clock," noted Dipper. "The time of the murder." He scratched his forehead thoughtfully.

"Sooo, I guess you've never seen _this_ before?" he asked, pulling out the ax.

"Listen LITTLE GIRL!" yelled Manly Dan.

"Hey, actually I'm-"

"I wouldn't pick my teeth with that ax! It's left-handed! I only use _right_ hand!" With a grunt, he ripped the animatronic hand off the machine, wires and all, and began punching Bicepticus in the head with it. Dipper backed away a bit, and Tyler randomly ran up and cheered, "Get 'im! _Get_ 'im!" He giggled while Manly Dan roared in victory.

"Left-handed?" thought Dipper with a raised eyebrow.

Meanwhile, we were quickly becoming friends with the biker over reading his future from the cootie catcher. We all counted off as Mabel flipped the paper edges open and closed.

"... three, four, five, six." Mabel opened it, and we leaned in to read what it said. Mabel and I gasped. "Your wife is gonna be beautiful," Mabel told him.

"Yes!" he fist pumped.

"Guys!" called Dipper. "Big break _in the case_!" We followed him out the exit.

"But will she love me?" called the biker despondently.

"As long as you do the dishes, you two will be inseparable!" I called, heading out into the blinding sun. I followed behind Mabel as we headed down the sidewalk, listening to whatever information Dipper got from Wendy's father.

"It's a left-handed ax," Dipper informed us, jotting down an organized list in a notepad of everyone who was at the unveiling yesterday, and writing out a right-handed category, and a left-handed category for each person.

"These are all our suspects," Dipper continued. "Manly Dan is right-handed. That means all we gotta do is find our left-handed suspect, and we've got our killer."

"Oh, man," said Mabel. "We are on _fire_ today! Pazow pazow pazow!" She shot air blanks with her fingers.

"You're not including me on that list, are you?" I tensed.

"Why would we? You weren't there at the murder," he replied. "Were you?"

"No, I was taking a shower at that time," I affirmed. But I didn't lose my nervous tension. _They haven't realized, have they? They haven't noticed that about me yet. Better if they don't. I wouldn't want them accusing the wrong person._

Dipper turned to face us, his countenance fixed with determination, and his mind no doubt brewing with great ideas."Let's find that murderer." We bumped fists, one after the other.

I said:"Tick."

Dipper said: "Tick."

Mabel said: "Tick."

We said: "BOOM!"

Throughout the rest of the day, we searched out our suspects, and tried many tactics to see whether they fit the description of our left-handed suspect. First, was Old Man McGucket at the town dump. I simply waved at him, and he waved back, his right hand stuck in the mouth of an alligator (or maybe it was a crocodile? Caiman? Over-sized iguana?) Not him.

Next, Dipper posed as a postman bringing a package for the fat Free Pizza T-shirt Guy, asking for his signature. He signed a clipboard with his right hand, and Dipper took it and package back and walked out of his yard, leaving him disappointed as yesterday. Ain't him.

After that, we found the angry chair busting woman walking down the street. Mabel whistled for her attention, and threw a baseball at her. She caught it, and crushed it in her right hand. No dice.

We then tried a tall guy that had been at the Shack yesterday, who also happened to have a garden gnome in his front yard. (I didn't take my eyes off the abominable ornament). He answered Dipper's knock, with both hands in casts. Definitely not him.

Dipper checked off his list everyone we came into contact with, and they all turned up right-handed. Until Dipper flipped a page on his notepad.

He gasped. "Guys! There's only one person left on this list." He showed us his results.

"Of course," replied Mabel. "It all adds up."

I looked down at the name written. "I knew there was something shifty about him when I saw that turkey baster." I dialed the cops on cell phone. "Let's head down to the Gravity Falls Gossiper. It's time to stop the presses."

It was sundown by the time the cops arrived, armed with flashlights and hoping this was a serious situation. The five of us all positioned ourselves outside the door of the Gossiper, the cops on both sides of the door, me behind the deputy and the twins behind the sheriff.

"You kids better be right about this," warned Sheriff Blubs, "or you'll never hear the end of it."

"Believe me," I replied, "we wouldn't have bothered calling you again if we weren't positive."

"The evidence is irrefutable," replied Dipper confidently.

"It's _so _irrefutable," emphasized Mabel.

"I'm gonna get to use my _nigh-stick_!"said Deputy Durland excitedly.

"You ready?" Sheriff Blubs asked, holding a nigh-stick of his own. "You ready, little fella?" The two of them whooped and batted each other playfully with the sticks. It felt promising to see the cops become excited with us in our confrontation.

"On three," commanded Dipper. "One, two-"

Durland kicked the door open, and he and the sheriff rushed in.

"Nobody move!" commanded Blubs. "This is a raid!"

Toby Determined fell out of his office chair in surprise as the officers trailed the flashlight beams on him. "What is this? Some kind of raid?"

Durland was so excited about using his nigh-stick he knocked over an innocent lamp standing on a VCR.

"Toby Determined," addressed Dipper. "You're under arrest for the murder of the wax body of Grunkle Stan."

Mabel addressed him next. "You have the right to remain _impressed_ with our awesome detective work."

"I think we should call the next news headline 'Toby Predetermined' as in _predetermined_ murder!" We high-fived. I knew the term was actually "premeditated," but I was too pleased with myself to care.

"Gobbling goose feathers," replied Toby. "I don't understand."

"Then allow me to explain," replied Dipper. He flashbacked to the previous days events, with the addition of his own idea of how he murdered Wax Stan.

"You were hoping that Grunkle Stan's new attraction would be the story that saved your failing newspaper. But when the show was a flop, you decided to go out and make your own headline." Mabel held the front page of today's paper for him to see the photo of Wax Stan's decapitated head.

"But you were sloppy," I continued, flashing back to the clues found, and the fact that Toby was holding the turkey baster with his left hand. "And all the clues pointed back to a shabby-shoed reporter who was caught _left-handed_."

"Toby Determined," said Mabel. "You're yesterday's news." She crumpled the newspaper and threw it over her shoulder to demonstrate.

Toby didn't say anything at first. "Boy, your little knees must be sore," he finally said, "from _jumping_ to _conclusions_!" He did some short victory dance over his word play. "Ha-cha-cha! I had nothing to do with that murder."

"I knew it!" exclaimed Dipper. But then he and Mabel back-tracked.

"Wait- wha- did you say nothing to do- he said nothing..."

"Wait- huh -what- could you repeat?"

"Then where were you the night of the break-in?" asked Blubs. I noticed that he didn't say "attempted murder". He obviously didn't consider the beheading of Wax Stan to have been a premeditated possible murder planned for the real Stan. He wasn't paranoid enough to consider the idea.

Toby pulled his collar nervously.

"Hey, is that a video camera?" I asked, pointing to a corner in the ceiling near the door.

"Check the film," said Dipper.

We played the tape from last night. We saw Toby Determined open the closet by his desk. "Finally, we can be alone," he said, pulling something flat out of his closet, " cardboard cut-out of female news reporter, Shandra Jimenez." He began kissing the tall cut-out. We all expressed various levels of disgust. "That's gonna give me nightmares," I muttered.

"Times stand confirms it," Blubs said. "Toby, you're off the hook, you freak of nature!"

"Hurray!" cried the freak of nature.

"But," stuttered Dipper. "But it has to be him! Check the ax for fingerprints!"

Blubs dusted the ax handle while Durland held a black light over it. "No prints at all," confirmed Blubs.

"No prints?" thought Dipper befuddled.

"Hey, I got a headline for ya," said Durland to Toby. "'City Kids Waste Everyone's Time.'" The three pompous adults laughed at us. Dipper and Mabel looked away, feeling rather foolish and awkward.

I felt my face turn color with rage. "But how is this all possible?! We found that ax in our living room and we've never seen it before! Someone had to have broken in and tried to murder Stan! Sheriff, you have to help us with this investigation. What if the murderer comes back and tries to hurt Stan, or worse, one of us? We could be-"

"Do I really need to hear anymore of this?" asked Blubs unimpressed. "You've wasted enough of our time, Shoobie. The next time you call, we'll find a _real_ emergency to deal with instead." With that, he and his deputy walked out, Durland hollering "City KIIII-IIIDS!"

Being called a "city kid" was hardly an insult compared to being called the New Jersey word for an out-of-stater.

"Boy, I'd be pretty embarrassed if I was you kids," said Toby. Meanwhile, the tape still played him smooching the tall piece of cardboard behind him.

_Least we don't have to keep our friends stored in a closet,_ I thought bitterly. How come adults found people like him more credible than kids concerned about a likely threat?

That night, we held a memorial funeral for Wax Stan. Organ music was being played by an organist in a corner of the room. _Who's playing that music?_ I thought. _I didn't think that Stan would go to the trouble actually hiring an organist for the funeral._

Stan stood in front of a podium to give a speech in his memory. He addressed each group who was seated for the funeral.

"Kids, older kids, lifeless wax figures, thank you all for coming." Soos blew his nose sadly.

"Some might say that its wrong for a man to love a wax replica of himself," Stan continued.

"They're wrong!" jumped Soos.

"Easy Soos," replied Stan. "Wax Stan," he addressed his wax twin. " I hope you're pickin' pockets in Wax Heaven." He shed a few tears, something that was completely out of character for him ( but considering who he was mourning, not too surprising). He ran from the podium. "I'm sorry! I got glitter in my eye!" He ran from the room of wax figures. Soos wept following after him. "Du-hu-ude..."

I blew my nose, resounding like a fog horn. I wasn't depressed about the demise of Wax Stan much at all; I just almost sneezed. "Sorry guys," I apologized. "This room's dusty." I felt pretty bummed out, and even more unnerved than before. Something bad was gonna happen to us; I could just feel the danger in the room. Of course, I was probably being hyperactive from fear and paranoid from all the crazy creatures we've had to deal with the last couple of weeks. What was next?

"Huh,"sighed Dipper. "Those cops were right about me."

"Dipper," replied his sister. "We've come so far. We can't give up now." She held the ax in her lap.

Her brother stood up, and walked over to the coffin where Wax Stan lay. "But I considered everything. The weapon, the motive, the clues." He gazed in at the glittery figure, and sighed defeated.

"Then there must be something else we haven't considered yet, " I concluded., standing up to throw away my used tissue. "Or there must be a part of a clue we're missing." I walked over and peered into the coffin. "There isn't anything unusual about Wax Stan's body or appearance we've missed besides his head, is there?"

"Wax Stan's shoe has a hole in it," Dipper noticed. Mabel walked next to him.

"All the wax guys have that," she replied. "It's where the pole thingy attaches to their stand dealies."

"Wait a minute," remarked Dipper with a sudden thought. "What has holes in it's shoes and no fingerprints? Guys, the murderers are-"

"Standing right behind you?" finished a British voice. We turned to look behind us, and watched in stupefied horror as the figures came to life and moved towards us.

Dipper gasped. "Wax Sherlock Holmes! Wax Shakespeare! Wax Coolio?"

"'Wassup, Holmes?" asked Coolio.

I screamed, and pointed at the organ across the room. "WAX LAVEY IS ALIVE!" I screamed again, and hunkered far behind the twins.

He played the organ dramatically while laughing wickedly.

Wax Lizzie Borden snatched her ax out of Mable's grip. "Oh my gosh, oh my gosh!" said Mabel, backing behind her brother.

"Congratulations, my three amateur sleuths," said Sherlock Holmes. "You've unburied the truth, and now we're going to bury you." He pointed a magnifying glass at us like a pistol, and we shrank back in terror.

_We're dead, we're dead, we're dead, we'redeadwe'redeadwe'redeadwe'redeadwe'redead..._


	12. Ch 11: Headhunters: Case Closed

_A/N This chapter has been slightly edited, so don't be surprised that it's been re-uploaded. Thanks again to everyone who reads and reviews! _

Chapter 11: Headhunters: Case Closed

With his left hand outstretched, Sherlock Holmes showed himself to be the murderer. Even though he wasn't holding the ax, he was still terrifying. I mean, he's a talking, walking, _murdering_ wax figure for crying out loud!

"Bravo, Dipper Pines," addressed Holmes, removing a smoke pipe from his mouth. "You discovered our little secret." He removed Wax Stan's head from inside his coat. He then turned to face the wax figures behind him. "Applaud, everyone! Applaud sarcastically." The wax figures obeyed him, sort of. "Ah, no, that sounds too sincere. Slow clap." The crowd clapped slower. "_There_ we go. Nice and condescending."

"But, how is this possible?" asked Dipper incredulous."You're made of wax!"

"Are you _magic_?" asked Mabel mystified. Oh, how her sweet little heart could possibly hope.

"Are we magic?" laughed Holmes. He turned to glance back at his cohorts. "She wants to know if we're magic." Unprovoked, he aggressively slammed his right fist on the coffin behind the twins.

"We're _cursed!_"

"Cursed," echoed the other wax figures. "Cursed." Lavey began to play haunting music from the organ.

"Cursed to come to life whenever the moon is waxing," elaborated Holmes, who turned away from us. "Your uncle bought us many years ago at a garage sale."

Coolio jumped in. "A haunted garage sale, son!"

The wax figures flashbacked to the day that Stan bought them, by a man who owned an ancient house with that was surrounded by a cemetery. Stan was with the owner checking out some wax figures stored in a garage.

"I must warn you," the owner told Stan, wiping sweat off his brow, "these statues come at a terrible price." In response, Stan looked at the price tag attached to Sherlock Holmes.

"Twenty dollars?! Eh, I'll just take 'em when you're not lookin'."

"What?"

"I said I was gonna rob ya."

"And so, the Mystery Shack Wax Collection was born," said Holmes as he remembered. "By day, we would be the playthings of man."

"But when your uncle went to sleep," added Coolio. "We would rule the night." They thought back to when they would stay up at night, hanging out in Stan's home, and playing pranks on him while he slept.

"It was a charmed life for us cursed beings," continued Holmes. "That is until your uncle closed up shop." His voice was dripping with contempt.

After years of renovation and dust, the room was finally rediscovered when Soos came across the fallen doorknob that opened the door to the room that stored the cursed statues.

"We've been waiting ten years to get our revenge on Stan for locking us away." Holmes recalled the moment when he held Lizzie Borden's ax left-handed, and swung at Wax Stan's head. He dropped the ax behind the chair, and grabbed the chopped head. "But we got the wrong guy." He heard Stan returning to the room, and beat a hasty retreat.

"So you were trying to murder Grunkle Stan _for real_?" asked Dipper with unabridged horror.

"And the cops thought _I_ was crazy!" I cried. I was still terrified, but now I was angry as well. Stan was no saint, but he didn't deserve to die. How dare they threaten us!

"You guys were right all along," said Mabel. "Wax people _are_ creepy, and evil!"

"Enough!" shouted Holmes. He had been staring into the blazing fireplace as he spoke, but turned back to address us. "Now that you know our secret, you must _die_." His eyes rolled back into his head, and the other wax figures around him had followed suit. They approached us, moaning like zombies thirsty for blood. As Wax Lavey played a dirge, we backed away into the refreshments table.

I prayed desperately like a cartoon character awaiting her demise. "God, save us! God, save us! Godsaveus!Godsaveus!"

"What do we do? What do we do?!" shrieked Mabel fearfully.

"I don't know!" replied her brother. He glanced behind him at the refreshments table, grabbed some items, and threw them at the wax mob. Mabel and I followed suit, throwing napkins, plasticware, cups, cookies. Nothing had any affect, until Dipper grabbed the coffee, and threw it at Wax Genghis Khan, who screamed and backed away as his face melted from the hot beverage.

"That's it!" cried Mabel. "We can melt them with hotty melty things!" The two of them grabbed the battery powered candles lit on the table, while I grabbed the poker by the fire, and we held them out like light sabers, daring the cursed figures to come at us. The wax figures backed away fast, gasping in fear. My, how the tables had turned.

"That's it," I said as we advanced on them. "Back away, nice and slow."

"Anyone move, and we'll melt you into candles!" threatened Dipper.

"_Decorative_ candles," added Mabel in the same threatening tone.

"You really think _you_ can defeat us?" scoffed Holmes.

The twins had rather uncertain replies.

"It's worth a shot, I guess."

"Eeehhh, I don't know. I'm not really sure."

"Fourteen against three doesn't sound like fair odds," I replied. _Maybe this will be like Gideon against the Midianites._ I was afraid of these wicked monsters, but I tried hard to steady my drumming heart. I knew Who's side I was fighting for, and Who was looking out for us.

"Then so be it," said Holmes. "Attack!"

His cohorts followed his order, and charged.

Wax Lizzie Borden swung her ax at Mabel, but she ducked. Wax Borden missed and loped off Wax Robin Hood's head instead. Mabel kept her candle trained on her, but when Wax Shakespeare sneaked up behind her, she swung her hot electric candle and his arms were half melted, half chopped off. She pointed the candle at him, and he ran. One of his wax arms flew up and grabbed Mabel by the neck. She dropped her candle weapon, and choking, stumbled by the door. Desperate for air, she opened the door, and slammed it repeatedly on the hand's fingers.

I stuck my poker in the fire to reheat it, but Wax Edgar Allen Poe was approaching towards me, looking like he wanted to seal me up inside a wall to die. I pulled out my poker, and jabbed his eye. He screamed, yelling "Augh! Don't let the crazy guy murder me! My eye isn't evil!" and ran around in circles, until I sliced the poker across his legs, and he fell. His feet kept running confusedly around the room.

Wax Queen Elizabeth II charged me next. I said to her, "Pardon me, your Highness!" ducked beside her, and then shoved her into Wax Lizzie Borden, and the two women tripped and somersaulted about. Lizzie Borden furiously sliced at me, by accidentally sliced Poe's head with it. "'Nevermore'," I quoted. "'Nevermore.'"

"Interview _this_, Larry King!" shouted Dipper, slicing that statue's head off with his candle. "My neck!" cried Wax Larry King. "My beautiful neck!"

Wax Groucho Marx tried to grab the candle, but his hand melted as soon he touched the fake flame. "Joke's on you, Groucho!" Dipper sliced him in half. "I've heard about a cutting remark, but this is ridiculous," replied Wax Groucho, holding an air cigar as his upper half slid off. "Hey, why is there nothing in my hand?" Dipper smirked with triumph. But not for long.

Wax Genghis Khan charged at him, roaring, his face melted in rage. Dipper leaped out of the way, and Wax Khan ran into the burning fireplace, and splashed into a wax puddle on contact. "Ha, Genghis Khan!" laughed Dipper. "You fell harder than the...uh, I don't know, uh, Jing Dynasty? Heh. Yeah. All right." He picked himself up and hurried to save himself and us from the rest of the creepy evil figures.

Mabel was holding her own pretty well. She had Wax Coolio's decapitated head by one of his stringy dreadlocks and was swinging it around like a sling as wax statues tried to surround her. Coolio's head whacked painfully into their faces, while he said "Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!" The wax figures collapsed from Mabel's blows. This fight was really gruesome.

"Wassup with that?" Coolio's head asked Mabel when she ceased spinning him. "Dipper, watch out!" called Mabel.

Dipper saw Wax Richard Nixon and kicked him out the door, breaking his wax leg as he hobbled out. Wax Sherlock Holmes approached Dipper, holding Wax Stan's lifeless head. He placed on the horn of a rhino's head that was mounted on the wall.

"All right," he said, "Let's get this taken cared of." He removed a mounted sword that was right next to the rhino head on the wall, and deftly swiped the candle out of Dipper's grasp. It clattered to the floor, and cracked into pieces, rendering itself useless. Holmes raised the sword to slay Dipper, but I yelled "Catch!" tossing Dipper the reheated fire poker. He caught it, and parried the sword before it could slice his forehead. Holmes and Dipper backed into the hallway as they fought, and then up the stairs to the attic room. Dipper swiped at Holmes but he saw the attack coming, and avoided it. Dipper was then backed into a corner, and Holmes held his blade, ready to strike.

"Once your family is out of the way," Holmes told him, "we'll rule the night once again." He raised his sword for a fatal down stroke. Dipper looked for an escape, and his eyes fell upon the red stained-glass window. Holmes ran up to Dipper and brought his sword down.

"Don't count on it!" replied Dipper, leaping between Holmes legs, somersaulting, then opening the window and running onto the roof. Holmes had his sword lodged into the wall, but pulled it free, calling after him, "Come back here, you brat!" He climbed out after him.

Outside, the sky was turning red, and the moon was a pale sickle smiling down on all the unfolding drama.

Dipper climbed up the slope of the roof, and further on until he was walking along the "Shack" sign. He balanced himself precariously, and turned to face Holmes, who had followed him up. The two of them crossed blade and poker under the sign lights. Holmes mistakenly hit the "S" in Shack, causing it to be dislodged and fall off again.

"You really think you can outwit me, boy?" asked Holmes with a tone of condescension. "I'm Sherlock _bleeding_ Holmes! Have you seen my magnifying glass? It's enormous!"

Dipper ignored the egomaniac, dropping the poker, leaped unto the "Mystery" sign above him, and crawled over onto the other side. He jumped off onto the opposite slope of the roof, but caused the roof tiles under him to loosen and slide down, along with him. He reached for the dormer of the Wax Museum room, clambered unto it, and hid behind the chimney, breathless.

He took several breathes, then peeked around the corner of the chimney. There wasn't a sign of the wax detective anywhere. Dipper sighed with relief... until he looked in front of him.

"Ha!"Holmes kicked him in the stomach across the dormer, and aimed his sword at Dipper's face. "Any last words?" He raised the blade above his head, poised to slay Dipper where he lay.

"Um..." Dipper glanced to the east, thinking of a good response. "You got any sunscreen?"

"Got any... what?" Holmes hands were dripping profusely, and he gasped in horror at the rising sun that was rapidly diminishing him. "No," he replied to Dipper.

"You know, letting me lead you outside," mentioned Dipper. "Probably not your sharpest decision."

"Outsmarted by a child in short pants? NOOOOOOOO!" he wailed as he melted helplessly in the morning sunlight. "Fiddlesticks! Humbugs! Its a total kerfuffle! What a hullabaloo." The puddle of his wax body dribbled down the roof.

"Case closed!" said Dipper, brushing dust from his hands. The dust got in his nose, and he let out another cute sneeze.

"HA HA HA!" laughed Sherlock Holmes. "You sneeze like a kitten. Those policemen were right, you're adorable. Adorableeeeeeee!" his half-melted head slid off the roof, and fell with a splat.

"Eh, ewww," commented Dipper. And that was the final end of Sherlock Holmes.

Meanwhile, Mabel and I were trying to fend off the rest of the wicked wax monsters. Wax Robin Hood tried to nail me with an arrow, but I tossed a chair at him, and he crumbled into waxy bits. Mabel was fighting back now against Wax Queen Elizabeth II, trying to wrestle her captured hair from her white gloved hands. I grabbed one of Coolio's chopped legs, and, doing away with manners, whacked her crowned head off into the hungry fire. Mabel then grabbed her hair and pulled it and the monarch's arms off.

Shakespeare was trying to get his arms back on, but I picked up an ash shovel by the fireplace, and walked over to him, saying "I would challenge you to a battle of wits,"- and I knocked his arms away- "but I see you are 'unarmed.'"

"You wench!" he cried, charging at me. I promptly chopped his head off. "Sheesh, you don't need to lose your head."

Richard Nixon had managed to crawl his way back into the room, and ran at Mabel. I stopped him by slapping his flapping jowls with the shovel. He tripped into Wax Lizzie Borden, and Mabel then sent them rolling into the fire. Unexpectedly, Wax John Wilkes Booth made an appearance, holding a pistol in his left hand.

"Are all of you wax figures left-handed?" I asked.

"It comes with the territory," he replied. He pointed his gun at me, but Mabel sliced her candle across in his neck, and his head rolled off.

"Not much fun being assassinated, now is it, Booth?" I goaded.

Mabel screamed as Wax Thomas Edison swung Lizzie's ax at her. She ducked, and tried to melt him with her candle, but he brought the ax down and sliced it in half.

"Who's brilliant idea was it to give these wax monstrosities real weapons in the first place?" I asked, grabbing a nearby curtain, and throwing it over his head. Confused, he ran about the room, running into a wall, screaming "Who turned out the light bulbs? They're a genius idea! Genius, I tell you!"

"That's it!" With a slam on the keyboard of the organ, Wax Anton Lavey got up, and stalked across the room towards me, grabbing the discarded ax as he did. "You've played with us long enough, girls. Now it's my turn."

Then Wax Edison pulled the curtain off, and threw it aside, with a look of renewed anger in his pupiless eyes.

I had to make a life or death decision, and I didn't like my options. _God be with me. _

"Mabel, I'll take the Satanist, you take the inventor," I said, grabbing a pair of log tongs. With it and the ash shovel in both hands, I stuck them into the fire to heat.

"You actually think you have a chance against a cursed being?" he laughed.

"I don't think; I _believe,_" I said, trying to put up a brave front, even though my mind and heart were screaming _Run!Run!Run!_ I pulled the metal tools red-hot from the flames.

"So you say," he answered me. He rolled his eyes back in his head and charged at me. He raised the ax and swung at me. I barely missed leaping out of the way. I tried smack him with the shovel, but he parried it with the ax handle. Mabel meanwhile was being attacked not only by Wax Edison but also by various sliced limbs. One grabbed her hair, another grabbed her ankle, she punched one that flew into her face, and stepped on another one.

Then Lavey had me up against a wall. "Play time's over, girl. It's too bad that you can't defend yourself,"- he raised the ax above his head- "since you can only use"-he swung down- "you're right ha-!" He gasped in shock.

Barely a few inches from my blonde forehead, I held the ax at bay with the tongs in my left hand, and had managed to stab the hot shovel into his melting chest with my right hand. I braced my back against the wall, holding him back with all the strength I had.

"Impossible!" he cried.

"Isannah? But I thought you were right handed!" Mabel saw Robin Hood's head hopping towards her, and she kicked him away.

"You're _ambidextrous_?" exclaimed Lavey.

"You said something about me not being able to defend myself?" I used the tongs to wrench the deadly weapon from his hands, and threw it across the room. "The Lord is my strength and my defense. He is my salvation!" There was no way that I could be that fast without some divine intervention.

"Oh, how touching." Lavey pulled the shovel from my hands, and removed it from his torso. I glanced over at Mabel to see how she was holding out, when Wax Thomas Edison was trying to grab her head. I grabbed Wax Shakespeare's head, and rolled it like a bowling ball at his feet. The American inventing wax imposter fell over like a tall pin.

"Isannah! Look out!" cried Mabel.

I turned just in time to catch Lavey's attack with the tongs and prevent him from hitting my head. He grabbed some wet wax lying on the floor and refilled it into the gap in his belly. He was rebuilding his defenses.

"You Christians all make me sick," said Lavey, swinging the shovel. I tried to parry and lunge with the tongs, but they were more awkward of a weapon than I had thought.

"With all your self delusions of some higher power protecting you, and your so-called ancient 'words of wisdom.' You listen to the blather of dead men, and believe in superstitions. People like you are mad!" He aimed for my neck but I ducked. I threw a hopping arm at him, but he batted it away like a baseball.

"Christians are completely reasonable," I replied, swinging the tongs at his legs, but barely scrapping his knees. "We use historical findings and accounts outside of the Bible to back up Scripture, and discovered the law of gravity and other big discoveries."

I found myself being pushed out into the corridor as we argued and swash-buckled. "People like you are all about humanism, right?" I asked him. "Well, when the humanist movement started way back in the Renaissance, guess who started it? The Christians!" I aimed the tongs at his face for emphasis, and smeared his nose.

He waved the shovel at me, and I lost my balance and fell the last two steps down. I scrambled out of the way as Lavey leaped down, with the intent of crushing me. As I backed up into the kitchen, he tried a new tactic. "You're nothing but thieving hypocrites, trying to coerce finances and support. Oh, how you scoff at us 'sinners.' You claim to be holier than us, better than us, but you're no different than the rest of humankind. And that's what I hate about you _the most_!"

He threw away the shovel and grabbed a kitchen knife, and threw it at me. I narrowly avoided it, and it got lodged in the wall. With a pounding pulse, I pulled it out, and prepared to defend myself, knife and tongs.

"Christians are no different from the rest of mankind!" he cried. I grabbed a pot lid for a shield as he took up a few more knives, and we circled the kitchen table. I kept praying for a solution as I spoke. "We know we're sinners, and know we can't get into heaven by our acts or attitudes."

"Do you?" he asked snidely. "Do you _really_?"

"Being a Christian is not all about hypocrisy!" I backed into the stove, and set the tongs mistakenly into turning on the front burner behind me.

"And how would _you_ know that?" He stepped towards me, throwing a knife into the floor between us with each point he made. "You didn't keep the Sabbath, disrespected the authorities, and are murdering creatures that are practically human. Face it, you have laws that you can't keep, and don't even bother to. Sherlock agrees every bit with me. He quoted the portion of the Bible that reveals King David, a man after God's own heart, as a adulterer." He held a steak knife at my face, and had me leaning back over the stove. I felt the burner's heat on the nape of my neck, and realized that my hair could catch fire.

I shuddered, but I couldn't deny his words. I had indeed sinned and broken rules. He didn't even mention allowing under-aged children into a brawling restaurant with fake ID's.

"You're right," I resigned. "I am indeed a hypocrite. I've sinned against God and against man. Even people who we praise about in our Bible are nothing more than sinners. " He smirked devilishly. "But we remember those stories to remind ourselves of that truth. If God based His love for us solely on keeping rules, there would be no reason for Him to send His Son Jesus Christ for our eternal salvation, to take away our sins and hypocrisies."

He practically hissed at my next words. "Rules and rituals don't take away our sins; Jesus' sacrifice can only do that."

"Your God is dead!" he shouted.

"He came back from the grave, after freeing sinners from hell. The place that you seem so desperate to get to, in all your spitefulness toward God. Ironic, for a wax figure." I could smell my hair singeing from the burner.

"Your faith is weak; you're _nothing_ but weak. Our master will rise in power and conquer over you pathetic, _meek_ Christians."

"Jesus said, 'Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.' And He promised us that Satan wouldn't rule the world forever, but be thrown into the Lake of Fire. Power-hungry, hateful monsters like your master and Holmes will never have a hold on this world!" I swung my burning ponytail into his face. He yelped, backpedaling into the fridge, holding his melting eye. "My face!"

"You and Holmes can put that in your pipes and _smoke it_!" I licked my finger and thumb, and pressed them over a tiny flame that blossomed on one of my locks.

In a rage of frustration, Lavey leaped at me, a knife poised for my throat. But I ducked, somersaulted at his legs, and he tripped over me, and his face landed directly onto the burner. He screamed, and pulled himself away, but his hands and face were melting into liquid wax. From the open window behind the table, I could see the morning sun rising from the east. As beams of sunlight burned in, he melted, but his voice croaked out a last reply.

"This isn't the end, Isannah Elizabeth Tannenbaum. Worse things are coming to you. Horrors and terrors unimaginable. We'll be back! We won't be silenceeeeeed!" He melted into a bubbling black puddle.

_Thank God that's over._ I went into the broom closet, and fetched a mop and a bucket.

Mabel was inside the Wax Museum room, tossing the remains of Wax William Shakespeare into the fireplace turned Nebuchadnezzar's furnace. Wax Shakespeare was swearing his return in rhyme.

"Though our group be left in twain, Man of wax shall rise again!"

Mabel picked up his head last of all. "Do you know any limericks?" she asked him.

"Uh...There once was a _du-ude_ from Kentucky-"

"Nope." She threw him in the flames, and he briefly screamed before being instantly melted. Dipper entered the room, unharmed.

"Dipper! You're okay!" cried Mabel. "You solved the mystery after all." Dipper pulled up a chair to stand on as he removed Wax Stan's head from the mounted rhino's horn.

"I couldn't have done it without the help of my sidekick," he replied.

"No offense Dipper, but you're the sidekick," replied Mabel.

"What? Says who? Are-are people saying that? Have you heard that?"

I walked into the room, tired but grimly triumphant.

"Isannah!" cried Mabel. "You overcame your fear of wax."

"I was just afraid of Anton Lavey," I said, holding up a bucket of his waxy remains. "He's a man of the devil."

"You should burn that," said Dipper.

"Agreed." I threw the contents into the fire.

"Hot Belgian waffles!" Just then, Stan, walked into the war-torn, wax-spotted room. "What happened to my parlor?!" A curtain rod from the window fell down after his exclamation.

"Your wax figures turned out to be evil so we fought them to the death," replied Mabel.

"I decapitated Larry King," mentioned Dipper, as if that would make matters better.

"I mopped the kitchen floor," I added, as if _that_ would make matters better.

"Heh ha!" laughed Stan. "You kids and your imaginations."

I didn't even bother to argue that our story was true. If he wasn't mad that we destroyed one of his attractions, I decided that was a good deal. Besides, we had been up all night, I was coming down off an adrenaline rush, I had a class in a few hours; I didn't feel like going into further explaination.

"On the bright side though," said Dipper, "look at what we found." He tossed Stan his wax twin's head.

"My head! Ha ha! I missed this guy. You done good, kids." Stan smiled appreciatively. "All right, line up for some affectionate noogying."

The twins weren't jumping up and down with excitement on this idea.

"I'm not so sure about that. Is there any other alternative-"

"Oh, um... ah..."

But there great-uncle got them head-locked into a hug, and was already giving Dipper a noogy. The three of them chuckled. "Noogy, noogy, noogy." I started laughing at them myself. But then a police siren broke the short moment of affection. Sheriff Blubs and Deputy Durland were back.

"Solve the case yet, boy?" called Blubs. "I'm so confident you're gonna say no, that I'm gonna take a long, slow, sip from my cup of coffee." He took the coffee cup to his lips, and started to take a long swig, and his deputy followed suit.

_Oh boy,_ I thought. _Get ready for a spit take, officers._

"Actually, the answer is 'yes,'" Dipper said, holding up Wax Stan's missing head.

Blubs appeared to be choking, and spat his coffee all over Durland's face. Durland screamed, then spewed coffee back in Blubs face. Blubs screamed again, and spewed coffee back at him. Durland screamed, and spewed coffee back again.

"It burns! It burns!" Blubs cried.

"My EYES!" screamed Durland. Both screaming in scalded pain, they hit the gas and sped out of the parking lot. We laughed at them as they beat a hasty retreat.

"They got 'scalded!'" said Stan. We heard their vehicle screech and crash.

"So, did you get rid of _all_ the wax figures?" Dipper asked us.

"I am ninety-nine percent sure that we did," she replied.

"Good enough for me," he said.

"It'll have to do," I said. "If you need me, I'll be taking a nap and having nightmares before I have to get to class."

But watching from inside an air duct, the decapitated head of Larry King laughed. Until he heard a squeaking sound. "Huh?" There was a rat in the vent with him.

"So, you're a rat," he said. "Tell me about that." The rat promptly tore of his wax ear, and ran down the vent with it.

"Hey! Get back here!" he hopped on his neck after the vermin. "I'm hopping. I'm hopping after a rat that stole my ear."

As I turned to head out of the room, Stan asked, "Sheesh, Iz, what happened to your hair?"

I looked at the end of my ponytail, which lost about two inches to the kitchen stove. "I burned it," I shrugged, then headed to my bedroom for a much needed rest.

I couldn't help but wonder to myself about Lavey's dying vow. _What if what he said was true? But what could be worse than what we've gone through?_ Exhausted, I collapsed on my bed, never truly suspecting for a moment that the Satanic wax monster was more than terrifyingly accurate. _Worse things are coming to you_.

Mabel stood in front of mirror in the living room downstairs, trying to decide which sweater to wear for the day. "Hmmm. Hey Dipper," she asked, "what do you think is better? Sequins, or llama hair?"

Wax Larry King's head appeared in an air duct over the comfy chair in the living room. "The llama hair," he said. "Llamas are nature's greatest warriors." He hopped away.

"Thanks, Dipper!" she ran upstairs to put it on.

Dipper meanwhile was reading a Sherlock Holmes mystery, but he looked up and glanced uneasily around the room. He could have sworn that... but he decided to go back to his reading.

_"Don't let anyone look down on you because you are young, but set an example for the believers in speech, in conduct, in love, in faith and in purity." -1 Timothy 4:12_


	13. Ch12:THTRTM: Li'l Gideon

Chapter 12: The Hand That Rocks The Mabel: Li'l Gideon

Stan was leading a group of unsuspecting customers around the Mystery Shack. It was late in the day, and he had them outside for a last scam to make money.

"For tonight's final illusion," concluded Stan, "we have the incredible 'Sack of Mystery.'" He pulled out a sack with a question mark sown into it. "When you put your money in, it mysteriously disappears."

The customers obliged with Stan's simple scamming trick.

"Of course!"

"That makes perfect sense."

"What a nice man."

"Totally worth the drive."

Meanwhile, Dipper, Mabel, and Soos were in the living room, all huddled on the armchair, watching a TV show. I was sitting in the dining area of the room, huddled over a book, trying to catch up on some homework, while also trying to enjoy the show with Soos and the twins. I've never had the best study habits. I was also still recovering from the previous day's battle with the wax figures, and was now battling off fatigue.

"The tiger was badly injured in the explosion," said a surgeon voice over on TV. "But we repaired him, with a fist." The screen showed the tiger with an muscled arm clenched into a fist. Then a title appeared with the words "Tiger Fist!"

They living room audience cheered for the tiger. The fist punched the tiger in its face. The title screen appeared again with an announcer saying "'Tiger Fist!' will return after these messages." A commercial with a pair of hands throwing doves into the air appeared on screen.

"Hey, look!" said Soos. "It's that commercial I was telling you guys about." Curiousity got the best of me (that, and the science textbook was mind-numbingly boring). I paused in my reading, got up form the table, stood by Soos to watch.

The next scene was a shot of some majestic mountain view ( I was gonna guess the Rockies)."Are you completely miserable?" asked a Southern voice. The commercial then played a scene of a man weeping in his bedroom. "YE-ES!" cried the man.

"Then you need to meet..."

"_Gideon_," whispered another voice. A silhouette with a question mark inside it and the name "Gideon" popped on screen.

"Gideon?" asked Dipper.

"What makes him so special?" asked Mabel.

"He's a psychic," said the Southern announcer.

"Ah-roo?" asked Mabel. She sounded like Scooby-Doo.

"Don't waste your time with other so-called 'men of mystery,'" warned the voice. A scene of Stan walking out of the outside john and shaking a trail of toilet paper from his slipper was played. "Fraud" was stamped over him.

"Learn about tomorrow _tonight_, at Gideon's 'Tent of Telepathy.'" A bunch of disclaimers scrolled up the screen, and then there was some message to someone named Carla about always loving her but never having the guts to say it.

"_Wow_," said Mabel. "I'm getting all curious-y inside."

"Well, don't get too curious-y," said Stan as he crossed the threshold, flipping up his eye patch. "Ever since that _monster_ Gideon rolled into town, I've had nothin' but trouble." He removed his coat, and place it on a coat rack made from antlers.

He flashbacked to a moment when he was previously trying to find a parking space in a parking lot. He found one, but then Gideon's RV sped in, and a crowd of adoring fans clustered around it. "Gideon!" muttered Stan.

"Well, is he really psychic?" asked Mabel in the present time.

"I think we should go and find out," said Dipper, looking up at me and Soos.

"Yeah," I said, surprised that I wanted to step into a fortune telling house, one of the forbidden places my parents told me to never consider dealing with. I knew that psychics couldn't be trusted with the truth, but all the same, I was curious-y too. I tried to defend my agreement to myself with a plausible excuse. "Considering that they explicitly trashed Stan's reputation, I think we should learn a bit about this guy and see if he's legit. You know, kind of like 'know your friends, but know your enemies better.'"

"Never!" declared Stan, undoing his western style tie, and sticking it in his coat pocket. "You're forbidden from patronizing the competition! No one who lives under my roof is allowed under that Gideon's roof."

"Do tenants have roofs?" Dipper asked me.

"I think we just found our loop-hole," I replied with a smile.

"Yeah," agreed Mabel. "Literally." She held up a string with a loop tied in it. "Wha-amp, wha-amp!"

_Boy, would Mom scream at me if she knew that I was being this blatantly disobedient,_ I thought.

"So come down soon, folks," called the same announcer from the Gideon commercial. "Gideon is expectin' ya."

-_cue Gravity Falls theme song_-

That evening, many curious-y patrons came by to the Tent of Telepathy to see what marvel Gideon might be. Standing at the entry way was Bud Gleeful, the man who was the announcer promoting Gideon.

"Step right up there, folks," he encouraged. "Put your money in Gideon's 'Psychic Sack.'" He held a sack with Gideon's emblem, a five-pointed right-side up pentagram with an eye in the center. Five pointed star with an eye. That was the first red flag for me. For once, I was beginning to agree with Stan. People handed money into it with the same complacency they had with Stan as they stepped inside.

The tent was wide enough to hold several rows of pews and a curtained stage. There were speakers and a piano sitting upstage right, and the curtains were a deep blue that contrasted with the white tent canvas overhead. The whole place had an American tent revival meeting vibe to it. This was not at all what I expected from a psychic, who I was told from many a Christian source would be divining lies and blasphemies from demons. If they played a gospel hymn like "Victory In Jesus," I would be sold.

I was seated by Mabel, who was already eating popcorn. On her right side sat Dipper, and on his right side was Soos, eating a taco.

"Whoa, this is like a bizzaro version of the Mystery Shack," noticed Dipper. "They even have their own Soos." He pointed to a handy man carrying tools, who had the same face and build as Soos did. Soos glared at him as he chewed.

I searched the crowd frantically. _Maybe this was a bad idea after all._"If any of you see my doppelganger, say 'Sannah-I-a, Annenbaum-Ta, and I'm out of here." It wouldn't surprise if there were doppelgangers out here.

I was feeling so conflicted with everything I was seeing. How would I know if this was a good idea or a horrible one?

"It's starting," whispered Mabel excitedly. "It's _starting!_"

_I guess I'll find out now_, I thought.

The lights dimmed out, and music that signaled a big entrance played. Spotlights danced over the audience's heads and played along the stage and it's closed curtains.

"Let's see what this 'monster' looks like," said Dipper to himself.

A spotlight settled into the center of the stage, where the blue curtains would separate, and a dark imposing silhouette behind the curtain stepped forward to center stage. But when the curtains parted, the silhouette turned out to be a cute, freckly nine-year-old boy with a blonde pompadour wearing a cape. He wore an American flag pin on his coat, as if to make him appear patriotic.

"Hello, America!" said the child with a Southern accent. "My name is Lil' Gideon." He clapped twice, and doves flew from his insanely huge pompadour. The audience cheered, and Soos sat awed at the magic trick.

"_That's_ Stan's mortal enemy?" asked Dipper dubiously.

"But... he's so widdle," said Mabel.

"And his hair's so huge," I remarked. _Wonder how much hair gel was suffocating those birds._

"Ladies and gentlemen, it is such a _gift_ to have you here tonight!" said Gideon onstage. "Such a _gift!_ I have a vision. I predict you'll soon all say 'Awww-oh.'" He turned his face from the audience, and then turned back, his smile rosy and his eyes sweet like a puppy.

"Awww," said the audience.

"It came true," whispered Mabel.

"What? I'm not impressed," said Dipper.

"Me neither. This guy is a total charlatan," I said in agreement

"You're impressed," said Mabel, not believing us.

"Hit it, Dad!" Gideon pointed to his father, Bud Gleeful, who struck up a gospel tune on a piano. Gideon removed his cape, and tossed it to a woman in the front row, who was overjoyed at receiving it, but then had to fight off other women who wanted an object worn by the fake child prodigy. Gideon then began to sing.

"Oh, I can see what others can't see,

"It ain't some sideshow trick, its innate ability.

"Where others are blind, I am futurely inclined,

"And you too could see, if you was widdle ol me!" He giggled to himself.

"Come on everybody!" he called to the audience, grabbing his bolo tie. "Rise up!" Everyone rose their feet at his command. "I want ya'll to keep it going!"

We rose to our feet, whether we intended to or not.

Dipper was more than just surprised. "Wha-? How did he-"

"Keep it going!" commanded Gideon, and the audience started to clap as he sang another line. I frowned, not enjoying his mockery of good gospel music one bit.

"You wish your son would call you mooore," he sang, pointing to an elderly woman sitting in the front row.

"I'm leaving everything to my cats!" she exclaimed, waving a fist in the air. One of the cats in her lap yowled.

"I sense that you've been here befo-o-ore," he said to another audience member wearing and holding Lil' Gideon merchandise.

"Oh, what gave it away?" asked Sheriff Blubs bashfully.

Dipper became more and more skeptical. "Come on," he rolled his eyes.

Gideon step down the aisle by us and spoke to Mabel.

"I'll read your mind if I'm able," he said, winking at her. The audience around us continued to clap to the music.

"Something tells me you're named 'Mabel.'" He stepped away to get back onstage. "How'd he do that?" she asked, stepping closer into our row so that I could see her name sown clearly onto her sweater. I rolled my eyes.

"So welcome all ye,

"To the Tent of Telepathy,

"And thanks for visitin,' widdle ol me!"

A neon sign with his name was lowered above the sage, and blue flame effects sprouted on stage as the song ended in a finale.

Gideon was tired from singing and dancing. "Oh my goodness," he panted.

The audience cheered and cheered for him, and Soos and Mabel joined them.

Gideon pulled a water bottle from his coat, and sipped from it. "Thank you!" he called. "You people are the real miracles!"

"Whoooo! Yea-heh-hah!" cheered Mabel.

The audience exited the tent, happy and good-natured as if they had attended a revival meeting.

"Man," said Dipper. "That kid's an even bigger fraud than Stan. No wonder our uncle's jealous."

"Aw, come on," said Mabel. "His dance moves were adorable! And did you see his hair? It was like 'Whoosh!'"

"You're too easily impressed," said Dipper.

"Yeah, yeah!" She poked him, and the two laughed and prodded each other.

I came out talking with Soos. "I'll give it to him, the kid's smart selling his smile and all that, " I mentioned to him. "But I feel like this was all a sort of mocking farce against evangelical Christians."

"But why are you taking it so personally?" asked Soos as we joined up with the Pines twins.

"Well, my dad loved gospel music, and played it everyday in church," I elaborated. "My mom used to sing songs like that on Sunday morning. Everyone in my church back home loved it. My parents thought that the best cure for the Christian who was unhappy or unsatisfied in his relationship with God was a good old Southern-style revival meeting. Now, I'm trying hard to not feel like he ruined it for me."

"Oh, don't be mad, Isannah," said ever cheery Mabel. "Just think of how revival-ish he was trying to be and laugh about it." She laughed a little herself.

"You're right," I said. "I shouldn't let this get me down. I mean, it _was_ just a tourist trap, not an actual revival meeting."

"We should be getting back to our own tourist trap," mentioned Dipper as the twilight began to fade.

"Yeah," agreed Soos. "Let's get back to the Mystery Shack. I'm up for more tacos."

"And I've got a chapter of history to read," I remembered.

As the foursome walked away, Gideon stepped out from his hiding place behind the tent flap where they had spoken. He watched them intently as they headed home.

_This wasn't so bad,_ I thought. _I don't know why I was worried. Nothing's up with that kid._

Boy, if I could only see what the future had in store.

The next morning, I was packing my books for a couple of classes I would have until mid-afternoon. I was in the dining room with Dipper, who was sipping a glass of water. I felt fatigued. Spending the evening out to go to a tourist trap with so much homework to do for the next day wasn't the idea I've ever had.

To interrupt my mantra of "Books, wallet, phone," Mabel ran in, saying in a constrained voice, "Check it out, guys! I successfully bezazzled my face!" She wore a huge assortment of plastic bedazzle gems all over her visage, even on her eyelids. "Blink," she blinked painfully. "Ow."

"Is that permanent?" asked Dipper. This was ridiculous, but this was Mabel.

"Maybe you should see a doctor," I added, a little concerned.

"I'm unappreciated in my time," replied Mabel, feeling insulted. The doorbell rang.

"Somebody answer that door!" called a groggy Stan.

"I'll get it!" replied Mabel, rubbing the gems off her face as she went. When she opened the front door, she expected someone tall, but seeing no one, trailed her eyes down to a blue suit and a blonde pompadour.

"Howdy," said Gideon Gleeful.

"It's widdle ol' you!" said Mabel, thrilled to see the cute fake psychic.

"Heh, heh, yeah," replied Gideon awkwardly. "My song's quite catchy. I know we haven't formally met, but after yesterday's performance, I just couldn't get cha laugh out of my head."

"You mean this one? Ah, ha, haha, ha, huh."

"Oooh, what a delight! When I saw you in the audience, I said to myself, 'Now _there's_ a kindred spirit. Someone who appreciates _sparkly_ things in life.'"

"That's totally me!" exclaimed Mabel. She laughed, but then started coughing up more bedazzle gems. They landed and stuck to the collar of Gideon's coat. "Enchanting," he whispered. "_Utterly_ enchanting."

"Who's at the door?" hollered Stan from inside.

"No one, Grunkle Stan!" called back Mabel.

"I appreciate your discretion," whispered Gideon. "Now Stan's no fan of mine. I don't know how a lemon so sour could be related to a peach so sweet."

"_Gideon_!" Mabel giggled with false bashfulness.

"What do you say we step away from here, and chat a bit more?" he asked her in secretive tone. "Perhaps in my dressin' room."

Mabel inhaled excitedly, barely believing her good fortune. "Make-overs! Ho-hoo!" she poked him hard in his widdle tummy. He chuckled awkwardly, then said "Ow."

As the door to the closet in Gideon's dressing room opened, Mabel gasped in delight. The place had the most adorable, trendy outfits waiting to be worn!

"Do you see somethin' you like?" asked Gideon. "'Cause I do," he said, glancing up at Mabel's priceless face.

She laughed and replied with confused happiness, "What?"

Later that afternoon, Mabel and Gideon waved good-bye in front of the Mystery Shack, and Mabel walked inside. She and Gideon had done a bizarre make-over on her, curling her bangs and the tips of her hair, and applying a pink bow for hair, purple eyeshadow, extra blush, bright lipstick, and long pink fingernails.

Dipper was slouched on the armchair in the living room, enjoying a peaceful hour of reading the journal, while I had just gotten home, and was throwing everything from college off my back, and getting myself a bag of chips from the kitchen. Neither of us expecting Mabel to come in and surprise us.

"Hey, Dipper," she said, walking up behind him. "What's going ooooon?" She leaned over his head, and dangled her long fingernails over his face.

I walked into the room, and screamed in fright. "Mabel?! What happened to you?"

"Who-oa!" he said slapping her hands away. "Where've you been?" He stood up to talk to her. "And what's going on with those fingernails? You look like a ... wolverine."

"I know, right?" She made a "roar" sound and slashed her nails like animal claws. "I was hanging out with my new pal, Gideon. He is one dapper little man."

"Mabel," addressed her brother. "I don't trust anyone whose hair is bigger than their head."

I didn't really care about Gideon being her friend. He made her happy, and so long as the two of them weren't doing anything illegal or getting into some kind of trouble that could get _me_ into some kind of trouble. Lack of sleep and lots of homework can really deteriorate your morale.

"Oh, leave him alone," Mabel replied in a defensive tone. "You never want to do girly stuff with me. You and Soos get to do boy stuff all the time."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Hey, dude," called Soos as he walked into the living room carrying a package of hotdogs. "You ready to blow up these hotdogs in the microwave one by one?"

"_AM_ I?" He and Soos ran into the kitchen, and popped the hotdogs in the microwave. They laughed and cheered as hotdogs popped like corn. "One at a time! One at a time!"

"My point _exactly_," said Mabel.

"Brothers," I muttered.

"Why can't you and I do something girly together?" Mabel asked me.

"I'm sorry, Mabel," I replied apologetically. "But I have a school project due this week, and tomorrow I have an enormous test to study for."

"Oh, you always have a dumb test or a dumb project to work on," she complained.

"Believe me, Mabel, I would much rather braid hair and do make-overs with you than write up labs and study the history of English battles. But since I need to work on getting a career, I need to get through at least three in half more years of schooling, and then have all the time in the world."

"Awww," she said disappointed. She went upstairs to undo the 'make-over,' leaving me alone with my guilt and homework.

Later before evening, Mabel and Gideon were sitting together on the roof of Gideon's family's factory by the edge of a cliff. It was a quiet place for the two new friends to converse.

"Whoa! The view from your family's factory is _nuts_!" said Mabel as she gazed at the town "Good thing we both brought our..."

"Opera glasses!" they said simultaneously, producing the mentioned item. They peered through their own pair at each other, laughed like a couple of old pals, then used them to gaze out over the downtown city hall area.

"Mabel," said Gideon. "When I'm up here, lookin' down on all them little ol' people, I feel like I'm king of all I survey." His voice had dropped down to a sinister whisper. But he returned to his natural tone."I guess that makes you my queen."

"Wha-aat?" replied Mabel in a nervous laughing sort of voice. "You're being so nice to me right now. Quit it!" She shoved him playfully.

"I can't quit it," Gideon replied. "I am speakin' from the heart."

"From the where now?"

"Mabel, I've never felt this close with anyone. So, _so close_." He reached a hand for her hair and stroked it, inhaling in creepy sort of way.

"Look, Gideon," she said, taking his hand away. "I, um-" But she had to stop his hand in mid-reach for her hair. "I like you a lot, but let's just be friends."

"At least just give me a chance," he said, undeterred. "Mabel, will you do me the honor of going on a date with me?"

"A play date?" she asked hopefully. He shook his head no.

"A shopping date?" Still no.

"It'll just be one little ol' date," he promised, taking hold of his tie. "I swear my lucky bolo tie."

"Ummm," replied Mabel uncertainly. She really wasn't interested in that kind of thing with him. He was the cute fall back for girly activities, not an age-appropriate eligible bachelor. But he gave her his "Awww" face, and she unwillingly conceded.

"Okay, then" she replied. "I guess."

"Mabel Pines, you have made me the happiest boy in the world!" he cried, hugging her. They held each other, Mabel already questioning her decision.

"Are you sniffing my hair?" she asked him.


	14. Ch13:THTRTM: Family Matters

Chapter 13: The Hand That Rocks The Mabel: Family Matters

After studying and dedicating most of the day to school work, I headed for the stairs to see what I had missed over the last couple of hours, and found Mabel home and heading up the stairs. I waited for her on the landing.

"Hey, Pinecone. Did you and Gideon have a good time?" I asked her.

"Why would you care?" she asked. "You don't have any time for me anyway."

I was surprised by how bitter she sounded. This wasn't Mabel, and certainly not Mabel to me.

"But I just had a lot of work to catch up on, Mabel," I tried to explain again. "You know this."

"I get _that_," she replied, "but it's not just school work. I always want to hang out with you, but you'd rather read a book or something than do stuff with me. You act like you don't have time for me anymore."

I was about to respond, but then I thought about what she said. Was it true? I flashbacked to a time last week when she wanted me to braid her hair into a fishtail to match her goldfish sweater, but I was too busy finishing up a chapter in _Jane Ere_. A few days later she wanted to go downtown and get her nails done at the salon, but I wanted to watch my favorite TV show. All three hours of it. Then she wanted to give me a make-over with her eyes closed, and I rushed into the Mystery Shack with some made-up chore to get out of it.

"You're right," I muttered reflectively, more to myself than to her. I felt a knife of guilt stab me in the pit of my stomach.

"That's why I'm glad that I have Gideon," she told me. "He loves doing girly stuff with me, knows how to style my hair, and actually _wants_ to be with me." With that she turned, and walked away.

I reached out to say something, to explain to her, but I couldn't. I didn't understand what I was trying to tell her. I tried explaining my thoughts to God in my journal.

_… I feel bad about that whole thing, God. I do love Mabel. She's one of the happiest, funniest people I've ever known. I love having fun with her, but I've realized that I cop out on her all the time. But why? The truth is complicated, but I guess I can try to explain it._

_ I would blame it on my touch of autism, but feel like that's just an excuse, and a lame one since it hasn't stopped me from being a good friend to others. In a sense, I think I'm a little afraid of Mabel. But not Mabel herself. I think I'm afraid of the idea of being her sister, of hanging out with her and getting to be close friends. I've never had a sister before, so this is still new territory for me. I don't even know if I'm afraid of exactly. It's more like I want to be her friend, but I don't. What does that mean?_

_ Well, I haven't had any close friends in years. Was there something I did? Yes! There was! I moved. My family moved a couple of times, but when we got to New Jersey, we couldn't find a home or a school that we could stay in for longer than a year. My parents were always struggling with the rent, or searched for a Christian school with a healthier social environment. My brothers and I tried to make friends, but it was hard to stick with our fresh relationships since we moved so much and left them behind. _

_ In the end, it was just easier for me to not make friends and to just go about my business in school, get good grades, and go home. That was my last college semester. It was loneliest time of my life. _

_ I guess over the months I haven't killed that habit. I've tried to grow out of that mindset, but I've still been treating other people the same way. I accept them to a point, or don't try to get close at all. Or even come off as rejecting them. _

_ And now I'm rejecting Mabel. _

I had to make amends somehow. But tomorrow, I had classes in the morning until noon, and too much time to come up with a good apology.

YBTXOB

After classes the next day, Stan had me work a couple of extra hours in Mystery Shack and cleaning the destroyed Wax Museum Room to make up from the time I had spent studying yesterday. I didn't really care too much, since it was a slow work day for the Shack. I assumed that I would get my share of work done, and then find the chance to talk to Mabel. But apparently, no one was around to work at the time, because there were plenty of things left to be done.

The twins were playing a video game in the living room that they found, and Mabel was talking about her "date" with Gideon.

"It's not a 'date' date," Mabel clarified. "It's just -you know- I didn't want to hurt his feelings. And so I figured I'd throw him a bone."

"Mabel, guys don't work that way," replied Dipper. "He's gonna fall in love with you."

"Pffff! Yeah, right," she scoffed. "I'm not _that_ lovable." An explosion sounded on the game, and Mabel cheered, "Kaboom! Yes!" as she won and defeated Dipper.

"OK, we agree on something here," her brother said, miffed about losing. The doorbell rang, and Mabel went to answer it. A horse pushed his head into the entryway, and Mabel screamed and backed away. Seated on the saddle was Li'l Gideon, wearing a ten gallon hat.

"A night of enchantment awaits, my lady," he said, reaching his out as an invitation to join him.

"Oh boy," said Mabel regretfully.

OLPBP XOB OBA

Mabel and Gideon's date at a fancy sea-themed restaurant, with well-dressed waiters and a running fountain in the dining area. Even though the two kids sat in their own private booth, many restaurant patrons were watching them and whispering to each other.

"I can't believe they let us bring a horse in here," commented Mabel to Gideon.

"Well, people have a hard time sayin' no to me," he said, pompously resting his feet on the table.

Their waiter stopped at their table with more water. "Ah, Monsieur Gideon," he said. "Ze feet on ze table. An excellent choice!"

"Jean-Luc," addressed Gideon. "What did we discuss about eye contact?"

"Yes, yes," replied the waiter. "Very good." He walked backwards to avoid looking at Gideon.

"I've never seen so many forks," said Mabel, gesturing to her silverware. "And water with bubbles in it?" She gasped slightly. "Oo la la. Oui, oui."

"Oh," said Gideon in a pleased tone. "Parlez-vous francais?"

Mabel had a smile that turned confused.. "I have no idea what you're saying."

GRPQ YBCLOB QEBV YILLJ

Meanwhile, our slow day at the Shack had gotten slower. Dipper stared at ceiling, probably counting the grains in the woodwork, while Soos read from a magazine, and Wendy texted a friend. I was so deep in thought about my history terms for my test that I was sweeping the same dust pile all over the room, without thinking to throw it away. But eventually, I had to pause because one thing in my mind kept nagging me: Mabel and Gideon. I was still wondering how much she hated me, but I was also wondering about how much she liked Gideon. The last boyfriend she had turned into a disaster. How were we to know that Gideon wasn't in some way deranged or dangerous? Three words rang through my head: _Trust no one._

"So guys," I asked no one in particular. "Do any of you know anything about Gideon? Like about his family or something? I mean he does seem to be well known around here." This was a tiny town, and he was a celebrity. Someone had to know something about him.

"Well," said Soos, looking up from his magazine. "I know that his dad, Bud Gleeful, has been a car salesman for years. Real nice and, well, gleeful."

"I guess scamming people runs in the family," I remarked.

"Yeah, but his mom's this frightened old woman who hides in the house all day," added Wendy, pausing from her texting briefly to address me. "You almost wonder if she's afraid of her own son."

Another red flag. Poor parental upbringing. Probably little to no discipline or self-control. Not a good thing for Mabel.

_I don't know if I feel comfortable about this kid,_ I thought, finally sweeping the dust into a trash bin. "Maybe we should speak to Mabel about this when she comes home later." _Unless she finds out on her own._

"Hey, hey!" called Stan, walking into the room in his underwear. "What the jeckle is Mabel doin' in the paper next to that greasy pick-pocket Gideon?" He showed us the front headline of today's issue _Gravity Falls Gossiper, _which featured a photo of Gideon and Mabel holding hands and walking down a sidewalk with the caption "Lil Gideon's Li'l Girlfriend?" under it.

"Oh yeah, it's like a big deal," said Wendy as she texted. "Everyone is talking about Gideon and Mabel's big date tonight."

"_What_?" cried Stan. "That little shyster is dating my great-niece?!" He must have thought that it was bad enough we were paying money and attention to the little fraud.

"I wonder what the new name will be for the power couple," thought Soos, looking up from his magazine that featured Gideon and Mabel together. "Mab-ideon? Gid-eable?" Then he gasped as he thought of the perfect name combo. "Gid-bel-eon!"

Stan crumpled the paper and discarded it on the floor."Mabel doesn't know what's good for her!You two should have stopped this before it began!" he yelled at me and Dipper. He stomped off to put on his suit. I felt stabbed again in the stomach with guilt about putting my schoolwork and pastimes before my temporary adoptive family. At the same time, I tried not too feel _too_ pleased that Stan was finally getting angry about something that was potentially bad for his family. I knew he had a sort of affection for the kids, but I felt that I need to see more of it sometimes.

"I didn't know!" defended Dipper. "I didn't hear about it, and plus- I told her not to!"

"Yeah, well it ends tonight," said Stan, his eight ball cane in hand as he opened the door of the Gift Shop. "I'm goin' right down to that skunk's house. This is gonna stop right now!"

With that, he walked out, slamming the gift shop door shut.

"Dude," said Soos. "Wouldn't it be funny if that was a closet and he had to come back out again and walk out the real door?" To test his theory, we opened the door himself. "Nope. Real door."

ALK'Q QORPQ DFABLK

Stan pulled his car up to the Gleeful's house. He opened the tiny iron gate, and walked past the flowers and garden décor, ready to have an aggressive talk with the li'l shyster.

He pounded the front door. "Gideon, you little punk!" He looked through the peephole in the door. "Open up!"

Then he noticed a sweet flowery sign hanging on the door that said "Pardon This Garden."

"I will pardon nothing!" he exclaimed, snatching it down from it's nail.

The door opened, and Bud Gleeful stuck his head out to see who dared to wreck havoc on their property, and smiled. "Why, Stanford Pines," he said in a hospitable tone. "What a delight!"

"Outta the way, Bud!" pushed Stan. "I'm lookin' for Gideon."

"Well, I haven't seen the boy around," his father replied. "But since you're here," he chuckled slightly, "you-you simply _must_ come in for coffee." With that, he pushed Stan inside the living room.

Stan tried to protest his good manners. "But-but, I came-"

"It's imported," he mentioned in his friendly car salesman voice. "All the way from Col-lumbia."

"Wow," said Stan, easily impressed. "I went to jail there once."

All at once he was in a good mood. He whistled as he gazed at the living room "Some digs you got here." He then noticed a painting of a depressed clown above the couch. "Oh, this. This is beautiful."

Bud obliged himself to get the two of them coffee mugs as Stan sat and continued to admire his home. "Now," he said. "I hear that your niece and my Gideon are, well, they're 'singing in harmony' lately, so to speak." He chuckled gleefully and sat himself down in a recliner.

Stan then abruptly recalled why he was here to begin with. "Uh- yeah, and I'm against it!" He knocked a pillow off the couch to emphasize his feelings.

N-n-no!" replied Bud. "I see it as a fantastic business opportunity- yes." He stood back up to further explain his idea to Stan. "The Mystery Shack and the Tent of Telepathy!" He took him around the shoulder and steered him further into the home as he spoke.

"We've been at each other's throats for far too long-" they came across a photo of Stan's face on a dart board- "let me get that"- he tore it off of a dart- "at each other's throats for far too long, yes we have! This is a big chance to brush aside our rivalry and pull our collective _profits_, you see."

Stan could see already hear the cash register dinging with the sound of business. But that was only because he was leaning on one. He pushed the cash drawer shut, and made a decision.

"I'm listenin'."

EB'II YB VLUO ALLJ

Gideon wiped his face with a napkin as he finished his meal. "So I said, 'Autograph your own head shot, lady!'" He laughed as he told the story to Mabel, but she wasn't paying much attention.

"Guh! Yeah," she said half-heartedly. The lobster at her plate snapped it's claws at her fork, and she didn't have the heart to kill it.

"Mabel, tonight's date was a complete success," said Gideon. "And_ tomorrow's_ date promises to top this one in every way."

Mabel snapped to attention. "Whoa whoa! You said just one date, and this was it."

"Hark! What a surprise! A red-crested South American rainbow macaw!" The bird described landed and perched on his arm. Mabel leaped in fright, and grabbed her lobster as a protective reflex. It was bigger than Gideon was!

"...two, three, four," counted Gideon to signal the bird.

"Mabel!" it squawked. "Will. You. A-ccom-pany. Gideon. To. The ballroom. Dance. This. Therbday." Gideon shook it on his arm. "Thursday!" it corrected, and hacked up an invitation from its throat. It's task finished, it flew away.

The scene didn't go unnoticed. Everyone in the restaurant was watching the cute couple banter.

"Ah, _so adorable_."

"Gideon's got a girlfriend."

"They're expecting us," whispered Gideon, holding up the invitation for Mabel. "Please say you'll go."

"Awwww," said a gathering crowd of Gideon admirers.

"Oh-Gideon, I'm sorry," said Mabel. "But I'm gonna have to say-"

"I'm on the edge of my seat," said Sheriff Blubbs.

"This is gonna be adorable," remarked Tyler.

"If she says no," said an elderly woman. "I'll die from sadness."

"I can verify that that will indeed happen," said her doctor.

Mabel felt the pressure mounting. Not only would Gideon be upset if she rejected him, but she would disappoint (and possible cause the death of) someone else in the crowd. She saw no other options.

ALK'Q ABZFMEBO

Dipper had his nose in the journal again, as he poured over another mystery with a Pitt soda pop at his side. Mabel was finally home, and had brought back with her a live lobster and a troubled mind.

"Hey," said Dipper, looking up from the pages. "How'd it go?"

"I don't know," she said despondently as she dropped her lobster into the fish tank. "I have a lobster now."

"Well, at least it's over and you never have to go out with him again," he said reaching for his can. His sister didn't respond; she just tapped the glass of the tank and watched her lobster. Dipper didn't take Mabel's lack of enthusiasm to be a promising sign.

"Mabel," he repeated. "It's over, right?"

She didn't look at him.

"Mabel..."

She caved. "Blarrrgh! He asked me out again and I didn't know how to say 'no!'"

"_Like this:_ 'No.'"

"It's not that easy, Dipper!" she argued, approaching the table. "And I do like Gideon... as a friend slash little sister! So I didn't want to hurt his feelings. I just need to get things back to where they used to be." She sat in a chair by the table. "You know, friends."

"So I take it the date didn't end well?" I asked, coming down the stairs. I overheard the tail end of the conversation from the landing upstairs, and was making my way down the stairs. I had an apology I had memorized and was prepared to give it.

"Mabel's got another date with Gideon," Dipper told me.

"Did he pressure you into making that commitment?" I asked her. That kid sounded like more of a manipulator than I had imagined.

"I'm not talking to you," said Mabel, turning me a stiff cold shoulder.

"You're talking to me right now," I pointed out.

"Did you hear something, Dipper, because I didn't," Mabel said to her brother.

"Oh, come on, Mabel, you can't keep this charade up forever," I said. "And you should tell Gideon that you're not interested in him. He's gonna keep manipulating you until you're trapped into-"

"Oh, what do you care?" yelled Mabel, tears streaming down her face. "You don't even know him! I don't like him that way, but he's a good friend. He would never tell me that he wants to be my friend and then act like he doesn't know me."

"I know that I haven't been the _best_ friend lately, and I'm sorry about that, Mabel. But I want you to be safe, which is why I need you to listen-"

"Since when did you care about _me_?" She got up from the table and stomped upstairs.

"All you ever care about is reading books and hanging out with Dipper!" She slammed the door to her bedroom shut, and the sound rattled all over the house.

"So that's what's bothering her," I realized, sitting down in her chair. "She thinks I'm playing favorites."

"She does have a point, though," remarked Dipper. "How come you two don't hang out? You guys are supposed to be like sisters."

I explained to him how I never had experience being an older sister for a sister, and that I haven't properly used good friendship skills for a few years due to all the moving I had done over the years. "I just want Mabel to know that I do care about her feelings and that I want to make it up to her."

"Don't worry," said Dipper. "She gets this way sometimes. She won't be mad at you forever."

"I hope not," I said. But how could I be sure?

YFII ZFMEBO

Stan left the next day to talk again with Bud Gleeful and left in charge for the day. This surprised me since he and Bud were supposed to be business foes. Are they burying the hatchet?

I kept thinking about it as I worked. It wasn't even a slow day; no one showed up at all. Dipper and Soos were siting by the counter, Soos fixing a broken lamp, and Dipper reading from the journal. I was playing with a yo-yo that had Stan's face on it. My mind was occupied with trying to figure out a way to get through to Mabel. It was killing me knowing that she hated me for being a bad sister.

_Talking it out won't work, so I have to make it up to her in some other way,_ I thought as Iattempted to try the walking-the-dog trick. _I can't just skip class to hang out with her. Write her an apology card?_ _Buy her candy?_

"Dipper, if Mabel stopped talking to you, what would you do to get back into her good graces?" I asked him.

"I usually just give her something that will make her happy again," he said over the pages of the journal. "But Mabel doesn't bear grudges forever; she'll forgive you eventually."

"But that's not the point," I said, undoing the baby-in-the-cradle I made from the yo-yo string. "Mabel's angry at me because she thinks I like you more than her and haven't been spending time with her. Waiting for her to forgive me isn't enough. I have to prove to her that I am sorry and do like you two equally." I did an all-around-the-world, my mind furiously searching for a solution.

"I hear ya, Iz," said Soos. "I had an old friend who got mad at me because I borrowed an expensive jacket from him and got a tear in it. He wouldn't talk to me for a month. The jacket only took a hour to stitch together, but I wish that our friendship was that easy to fix." As he spoke, the light bulb in the lamp flickered.

"Wait? Stitch? Friendship? That's it!" I exclaimed, the swinging yo-yo into the lamp and breaking the light bulb as it flickered on. "It's so obvious! Why I haven't I thought of it before? That's perfect! Soos, you're a _genius_! Dipper," I called, tossing him my yo-yo, " hold down the fort for me."

I hurried into the house side to my room. "I've got a friendship to stitch back together."

Soos and Dipper sat in stupefied silence, trying to make sense of what just happened.

"I don't see what's so smart about ripping a jacket, but OK,"replied Soos. He went to fetch a dustpan and broom, and Dipper went back to reading.

F GRPQ PXFA QEXQ QL OEVJB

Their next date was at the ballroom dance, and was ending with a trip under a moonlit sky on a gondola in the middle of the lake. Mabel wore a life jacket while Gideon wore a pair of water wings. Old Man McGucket was slowly rowing the boat across the water, an inner tube around his waist.

"Boatin' at night, boatin' at night," he said, happy with his task. "Weh, hehehehe, heee!"

"Ha, you know I thought dancing was gonna be the _end_ of the evening, right?" Mabel chuckled nervously. Gideon took her hands in his.

"Don't you want this evening to last, my sweet?" he asked her.

"NO!" she jumped. "I mean, yes. I mean I'm always happy to hang out with a friend... buddy... pal... chum... other word for friend?"

"Pal?" asked McGucket.

"I already said pal," Mabel replied. "Uh, mate?"

"How 'bout, _soul mate_?" whispered Gideon.

Just then, fire works rocketed into the sky behind her. They exploded into a red heart with her name inside it, bursting like red stars into the pristine night sky.

"Well, you can't say no to that," said McGucket.

And Mabel couldn't.

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Dipper came downstairs, boredness etched on his face. He was curious to find his sister in the living room, pacing and talking to herself in an agitated voice.

"He's so nice- But I can't keep doing this-But I can't break his heart- Ooohhh, I have no way out!"

"What in the heck happened on that date?" asked Dipper, entering the living room.

"I don't know!" she exasperated. "I was in the Friend Zone, and then before I knew what was happening, he pulled me into the Romance Zone. It was like quicksand! _Chummy quicksand!_"

"Mabel, come on," replied Dipper. "It's not like you're gonna have to _marry_ Gideon."

"Great news, Mabel," said Stan as he walked into the door frame, wearing a "Team Gideon" T-shirt. "You have to marry Gideon!"

"What?!" she cried.

"It's all part of my long term deal with Buddy Gleeful," he explained. "There's a lot of cash tied up in this thing. Plus I got this shirt!" He looked down at his belly, and his smile then turned up-side down. "Uhh, I am fat."

Mabel screamed hysterically and ran away upstairs.

"Bodies change, honey," called Stan. "Bodies change."

Dipper went upstairs, and opened the door to their bedroom to search for her. He didn't see her at first, but then he looked in a corner. "Ooh no," he said. "Mabel?"

Mabel had her head, arms, and knees tucked deep inside her sweater. She rocked back and forth in the corner. "Mabel's not here," she said. "She's in Sweatertown."

Dipper tried to pull the turtle from her shell. "Are you gonna come _out_ of Sweatertown?" asked Dipper hopefully. She puppy-whined and shook her head.

"All right," sighed her brother. "Enough is enough. If you can't break up with Gideon, then I-I'll do it for you."

"You will?" she said, peeking her eyes above the color of her sweater. He gave her brotherly empathetic smile and nodded.

"Oh, thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you!" she said, coming out of Sweatertown and punching him appreciatively.

"Huh, OK, all right, all right," he replied, happy to make his sister happy again, rolling his eyes as he accepted her hug.

F TLK'Q

Gideon had planned out their next date to be at The Club, the fanciest and most expensive restaurant in Gravity Falls. It rested at the top of a cliff that over looked the town in the valley.

Dipper walked in, hands in his pockets, searching out Gideon's table. He found him holding a menu that was almost three times his height, coughed awkwardly to get his attention, and waited for Gideon to respond.

"Oh, Dipper Pines," said Gideon, placing his menu on the table. "How are you? You look good, you look good."

"Thanks. You uh-" replied Dipper, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, unsure how to go about with "breaking up" with him. "Look, Gideon, we've gotta talk. Mabel isn't joining you tonight. She uh-she doesn't want to see you anymore!" He chuckled nervously. "She's says she's kinda weirded out by you, _no offense_."

Gideon's eye twitched."So what you're sayin' is, you've come _between us_," he said, his voice dark.

"You're not gonna like... freak out or anything, are ya?" asked Dipper.

Gideon scowled, but smiled and replied sweetly, "Of course not. These things happen. Ha ha, bygones, you know."

"So, OK, cool," replied Dipper surprised by how well the kid took it. "Well, then again, sorry man, but, uh, heeey, thumbs up! Huh?" He turned and walked out, pleased to be done and over with the awkward exchange.

Gideon sat placidly in his posh seat. "Thumbs up, indeed, my friend," he whispered.

Mabel was waiting anxiously outside the front door when Dipper walked out. "How'd it go? Was he mad? Did he try to read your mind with his psychic powers?"

"Don't worry Mabel," assured her brother. "He's just a kid. He doesn't have any powers."

XR OBSLFO

But back at the Gleeful home, Gideon was in his bedroom, alone with his furious buzzing thoughts. The only light came from a candle and from the lights circling the mirror around his vanity, where he stared at his reflection, his breathing becoming heavier as his fury grew.

"Dipper Pines, you don't know what you've done," he said, grasping the charm in his bolo tie. The charm glowed an ominous turquoise color, and the candle from the vanity rose into the air. The light bulbs in the mirror siding popped and the lights died out. Sweat spotted Gideon's face as he gazed hard into the mirror. Then, the furniture in his room glowed turquoise and floated above the floor.

Gideon turned from the mirror as he spoke. "You've just made the biggest mistake of your life!"

Using the bolo tie to control his possessions, he threw his wardrobe to the floor, and it splattered into splintery smithereens. The rest of his furniture fell to the floor in a cluttered mess.

His father opened the door to his room. "Gideon Charles Gleeful," he scolded. "Clean up your room this instant!"

"I can _buy_ and _sell_ you, old man!" yelled Gideon.

Bud stood there a moment in silence.

"Fair enough," he replied. He closed the door and left him alone.

Gideon looked up at the back of his door. There was a cork board that hung there, with photos of Mabel tacked and taped in the middle. The photo in the very center of the board was one of Mabel and her brother. Gideon grabbed the charm again. The photo glowed turquoise, and Dipper was burned to ash.


	15. Ch 14: THTRTM: Gideon's Vendetta

Chapter 14: The Hand That Rocks The Mabel: Gideon's Vendetta

Saturday. Finally. The school week was over, and I was finished with my apology gift for Mabel. It had taken two days, eight hours, three minutes, forty-eight seconds to complete, but I knew she would love them.

Stan had left the Shack again for the day, visiting with Buddy Gleeful to discuss more business plans. Apparently, he was trying to arrange some sort of marriage agreement between Gideon and Mabel. None of us informed him that their relationship was dead. At least, I didn't. I was too busy trying to bring my sisterhood with Mabel back to life.

Outside, the twins were playing a game with Soos where he held a pillow over his stomach, and they ran into it. Soos stuffed the pillow under his shirt. "Hit me, dude."

Dipper and Mabel rushed into it, bounced off it, and laughed. "Feels good," said Soos.

"I'm so glad everything's back to_ normal_," said Mabel. Of course, there was Iz, who wasn't even bothering to show her face anymore since Mabel's outburst. But she tried to focus more on the fact that Gideon's relationship was good and over. She wondered if her friendship with Iz was too.

Inside the gift shop, the phone rang.

"Your turn," the twins said simultaneously to each other. But Mable said it faster.

"Ah, man," complained Dipper, but he headed in anyway to take the call.

"Yello?" asked Dipper.

"Toby Determined, _Gravity Falls Gossiper_," replied the reporter.

"Oh, hey man," said Dipper. "Sorry for accusing you of murder last week."

"Water under the bridge. _Say_, we want to interview you about whether if you've seen anything _unusual_ in this here _town_ since you've arrived."

"Oh – finally! I thought nobody would ever ask! I have notes and theories –" Dipper pulled out his notepad, and took down an address to meet Toby at. "Uh-huh. Uhhh-huh. Four one two, Gopher Road. Tonight? Got it." He hung up, excited that someone finally wanted to talk with him about his discoveries.

"Hey Dipper! Who called?" I asked, finally emerging into complete daylight. How I missed it.

"Where've you been all this time?" he asked me instead.

"I've been making this," I replied, holding up a small cardboard box.

"You've been making a box?"

"No, I made a gift for Mabel that's _inside_ the box. The perfect thing that will mend our friendship." I grabbed my phone that was charging behind the counter of the gift shop. "Now all I need to do is go downtown and get it specially gift-wrapped." I couldn't wrap presents to save my life.

"Aren't you going a little overboard on this whole apology thing?"

"I want it to be perfect for her, Dipper. She's my summer sister. I need to be the big sister she never had."

Dipper pulled out his notepad, and showed me an address. "Well, as long as you're going into town, can you take me to this address on the way back? Toby Determined called and said that he wanted to hear about all the unusual stuff I've found in Gravity Falls."

"That's great!" I exclaimed. "Everyone will finally know that there's crazy stuff to look out for in these parts. But we can't be too long. I want to be back as soon as possible to make Mabel happy again."

"All right, it's about … six fifteen," Dipper said as he glanced at a clock on the wall. "I have to meet Toby at seven."

"Let's go now," I replied. "I'll start up the golf cart and we'll be on our way." I grabbed a disposable camera lying next to my phone. "I can't wait to take a picture of her face when she sees what I made her. It'll go in her scrapbook, and my conscience will be cleared." I followed after Dipper who already had a head start on me.

As I started up the engine, I caught sight of Mabel, running headfirst into Soos' pillow-soft stomach. I tried giving her a smile, but she only returned a look a bitter sadness. Like betrayal. Unfortunately, I knew exactly why. And having Dipper with me in the golf cart, ready to zip out on another adventure together without her, didn't help my case. Even so, I continued with my quest, informing Soos and her where Dipper and I would be and at what time exactly, and where to go if they needed to find us. I promised we wouldn't be long. It was one I meant to keep.

WRR EDG VKH HQGHG XS EUHDNLQJ LW

Meanwhile, back in his office, Toby hung up, and looked across his desk. "There. I did your dirty work. Now it's time to pay _your_ end of the bargain!" A slip of paper was tossed to him.

Toby gasped as he took hold of the paper. "Shandra Jimenez's phone number?! Bless you, Li'l Gideon."

The child psychic walked out of the office, the first part of his plan completed.

WREB'V D UDQ DQG D FUHHS

At about 7 p.m., Dipper and I arrived up the sloped path that would take us to Dipper's destination: 412 Gopher Road. A mailbox nearby read the same address number, and at the top of the slope was a disused warehouse.

With my wrapped gift in one hand, I glanced down at the time on my phone. We were here on time. So why did the joint seem deserted?

"I don't see any sign of him," I noticed. "Are you sure we have the right address?"

"It's where the GPS on your phone told us to go," he reminded me.

Dipper glanced back and forth between the written address and the old building, pocketed the notepad and continued up the path. I stuck my apology gift inside a back pocket of my jeans and followed him, wondering why a reporter would ask Dipper to meet at a rundown place like this.

We didn't see any sign of him outside, so Dipper assumed that he would have meet Toby inside the warehouse. I found the front door to be unlocked, but was hesitant to go inside.

"We're in a secluded place, off the beaten path, in the middle of nowhere, where no one else would bother going," I noted, taking a full scope of our surroundings.

"Welcome to Gravity Falls, Iz," replied Dipper, rolling his eyes, reaching to pull the door open.

"I don't know, Dipper. Something doesn't seem right about this. Why would Toby tell you to come here? Why not just meet you someplace in town?"

"Does it matter? He's going to interview me about everything I know about the mysterious stuff in town. This could be my only shot at being heard and taken seriously about all this. Don't you think that someone other than us should know what's going on around here?"

I was a little surprised that Dipper's usual paranoid instincts weren't alerting him to the possible dangers that these circumstances seemed to be adding up to. But I knew how much this meant to him, and didn't want to disappoint him like I've been disappointing his sister. Also, the more I argued with him, the less time I had to get back home to deliver my gift. So I conceded and waited outside while he went in to find the reporter.

Inside, all was dark.

"Hello?" called Dipper, walking inside. He was met with silence. Boxes of merchandise slept piled in the shadows. Cracked windows coated in thick dust refused to let the fading sunlight venture in. The whole place seemed at once sleepy, and strangely alive.

Dipper, disappointed that Toby wasn't here after all, turned to leave. Except the door got in his way, slamming of its own accord. Dipper pounded on the door, calling my name.

"Dipper? What's going on? Are you trapped in there?"

He and I both tried desperately to force it open, when behind Dipper, all at once, the ceiling lights came on. He turned and watched them as one by one, they lit up, leading to the end of the room. The last light beam fell over a swiveling office chair. It swung around to face Dipper, it's occupant stroking a Li'l Gideon doll.

"Hello, friend," said Gideon.

Dipper's fear turned into annoyance in an instant. "Gideon," he sighed in an irritated tone.

When I heard the name on the other side of the door, I went to a cracked pane in one of the windows to spy on what was going on inside. _Oh no. _He_ brought us out here?What's going on?_

Gideon played with the arms of his doll, and held a conversational tone as he spoke. "Dipper Pines, how long have you been livin' in this town – a week? Two? You like it here?" His tone became serious as he asked his last question. "Enjoy the scenery?"

Dipper cut to the chase. "What do you want from me, man?"

"Listen carefully, boy" he replied menacingly. "This town has secrets you couldn't _begin_ to comprehend."

Dipper believed this had more to do with something else other than "secrets."

"Is this about Mabel? I told you she's not into you!"

"LIAR! YOU turned her against me!" Gideon stood up form the chair, and approached Dipper, grabbing the amulet in his bolo tie. It glowed an ominous turquoise. "She was my peach dumplin'!"

"Uh, you okay, man?" Dipper asked uneasily. He had been afraid the kid was going to freak out about breaking up with Mabel.

_Is this kid going to try to fight Dipper or something? The little brat couldn't lift a finger against – _

Gideon waved his hand in an upward motion, levitating Dipper off the floor in a turquoise glow. Dipper and I gasped as Gideon threw his arm, and he flew across the room into a stack of cardboard boxes. They burst open upon impact, and a Li'l Gideon doll landed on his lap. "Howdy," it squeaked, as Gideon's shadow fell across Dipper.

"Readin' minds isn't all I can do," said Gideon in a wicked whisper.

"But – but you're a fake," said Dipper weakly.

"So tell me, Dipper: is this fake?"

He gripped the amulet again, raised his arm, and all the unsold items that had been pack into boxes levitated in the air. Li'l Gideon brand clocks, mugs, pillows, and lunchboxes hovered over Dipper, who was really beginning to regret coming here. So was I.

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Mabel sat forlornly on the front porch in the growing shadow of the nearby pine forest. She thought that she would be fine not being bothered by either Isannah or Gideon, but the guilt of yelling and being angry with her and not being brave enough to stand him down on her own had been on her mind all day. She couldn't help but question about whether she handle either situation well. She nibbled a strand of her hair as her thoughts and feelings ran confusedly through her troubled mind.

Wendy came out with her, tossing a towel over her shoulder, pleased that the work day was over. She sat by Mabel on the front step. "How's that hair tastin', buddy?"

"Wendy, I need some advice," replied Mabel, removing the strand from her mouth. "You've broken up with guys, right?"

"_Oh_ yeah. Russ Durham, Eli Hall, Stoney Davidson …"

"I don't know what's wrong with me! I thought everything was back to normal, but I still feel all gross. And Isannah isn't talking to me at all anymore. Not since she tried apologizing to me and warning me about Gideon."

"... Mike Wirley, Nate Holt, uh … that guy with the tattoos …"

"Maybe I was too hard on Isannah. She did try to apologize about it. She needs to be forgiven. And maybe letting Dipper do it for me was a mistake. Gideon deserves an honest breakup."

" … Danny Feldman, Mark Epstene – oh man, I'm not sure I ever actually broke up with him. No wonder he keeps calling me."

"I know what I've gotta do. Thanks for talking to me, Wendy." Mabel then ran off the porch, jumped on her bike that was resting nearby, and peddled off. She knew where to find Isannah. Gideon would be her next priority.

Wendy was still pondering her past boyfriend troubles when her phone went off. She checked to see who was trying to reach her, and said, "Ignore."

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Dipper ran for his life, dodging merchandise missiles as Gideon laughed and continued to torment him. He ran to the opposite side of the building, but Gideon caused a tall cabinet to lean forward to crush Dipper. He leaped out of the way as it fell, rolling into a somersault, and slamming against a wall.

Gideon laughed as Dipper rubbed his head in pain. "Grunkle Stan was right about you. You _are_ a monster!"

"Your sister will be MINE! Hahahahaha ha," Gideon laughed wickedly. He tugged a pull string on his doll, and it repeated his laugh. "Hahahahaha ha."

Dipper glanced beside him, and saw an item that he desperately needed: a baseball bat inside a box labeled "Li'l Gideon Blunt Object." He tore his hand through the plastic wrap over the toy, grabbed the bat.

Gideon meanwhile was still playing with his doll self. "Who's a cute little guy? You are!"

"No, you are!" replied the doll.

This kid was bigger manipulator than I could have imagined. I ran back to the door, and tried to force it open by ramming my shoulder against it. It wasn't locked at all, and gave easy. Too easy. I found myself kissing the floor and wondering for a dazed moment how I got there.

Gideon turned when he heard me barge in. "What? Why, Isannah Tannenbaum. How nice to formally make your acquaintance."

I spat some dust out of my mouth before replying. "I'd hate to say the same about you."

His tone became accusatory. "Why are you here? Are you babysittin' li'l Dipper Pines? He can't take care of himself?"

"Kid, Mabel doesn't want to date you anymore," I told him plainly. "She likes you, but not in that way."

"LIAR! You're all liars!" He levitated a cardboard box, and threw it at me. I tried to dodge it, but it hit me squarely against my back and threw me against a stack of other boxes. My eye barely missed being jabbed by a box corner.

Cold logic wasn't gonna work on this conniving child. I twisted myself to face Gideon again. "If anyone's a liar here, it's _you_! You promised Mabel only one date, and now you're trying to run her life!" I stood to my feet, trying not trip over any merchandise. "I should've known you were trouble from your mockery of evangelism and gospel music."

"Don't appreciate my taste?" he asked. "Of everyone there that night, I thought _you_ would!" He sighed, as though it was a shame he had wasted his time and energy on trying to impress me. "But everyone knows how stuck-up you Christians are." He levitated me, and carelessly threw me against the door. My back slammed into it, and I felt a rush of air get knocked out of my lungs. I slumped against the floor, and prayed I didn't break a rib.

I was done talking with this monster. I could barely get any words out anyway."Gideon," I gasped. "You will … leave … Dipper … and Mabel … alone ..."

"Or _what_?" he taunted.

"Or else …" I pulled my disposable camera out of my pocket. "I'll send these … pictures of you … trying to harm Dipper, and expose your true nature for the whole town to see." There was a reason why I delayed Dipper's rescue.

At that moment, Dipper decided to take his chance, and held the bat ready to swing at his head. But Gideon saw his attack coming, and levitated Dipper off the floor in mid-run, causing him to drop his weapon. He then levitated me off the ground, causing me to drop my camera, and threw me across by Dipper, where he could see us both. He then levitated the bat and used it to smash my camera to smithereens.

"She's never gonna date you, man!" Dipper yelled at the rage-driven monster.

"You can't get away with this!" I added.

"Those are lies!" Gideon yelled back. He glanced over at a box labeled "Li'l Gideon Lamb Shears."

"And I'm gonna make sure you _never_ lie to _me_ again, _friends_."

A pair of shears cut their way through the box. We were trapped in midair, unable to move away from the floating shears poised at our mouths.

I prayed and searched the room frantically, seeking out a solution.

_No one knows we're trapped here! What are we gonna do, God?! _

The shears snipped like the jaws of a monster as they floated closer, and closer …

"Gideon! We have to talk."

Gideon had made the same mistake twice. The forgotten door had been thrown open, and there stood Mabel.

I could have cried I was so happy to see her.

Gideon turned to her, not expecting this turn of events. "M-Mabel, my marshmalla." He dropped the shears, but kept me and Dipper were we were. "What are you doin' here?"

"I'm sorry, Gideon," she said, rubbing her arm sadly, "but I can't be your marshmallow. I needed to be honest and tell you that myself."

"I … I don't understand," he replied, tightening his grip on his bolo tie. Suddenly, Dipper felt his airways being constricted. My hair snaked itself around my neck, and squeezed it.

"Uh, Mabel?" he said in choked voice. "This probably isn't the best time to be brutally honest with him!" He looked like a balloon that was about to pop.

_Being choked by my own hair? This irony is _so_ sick. _My hair looped like a noose. I felt pressure build inside my chest.

"Hey, but we can still be makeover buddies, right?" Mabel asked sympathetically as she approached him, and took his hands in hers. "Wouldn't you like that?"

"Really?" he asked hopefully with his adorable "Aw" face.

Mabel glanced at his bolo tie, and grabbed it.

"No, not really!" she cried furiously, ripping the tie off and letting us fall before we died of suffocation. "You were like, attacking my siblings! What the heck?!"

"My tie!" cried Gideon. "Give it back!"

Mabel tossed it to Dipper, who caught it with a "Ha!"

"Not so powerful without _this_, are you?" he taunted.

"Dipper, watch out – " But before either of us could even finish our sentences, Gideon bellowed, charged, and rammed himself, me, and Dipper out the window that overlooked the cliff the warehouse sat on.

"Iz! Dipper!" called Mabel as the amulet dropped unto the floor.

The three of us screamed as we fell down the high drop.

Gideon slapped Dipper repeatedly across his face, until Dipper slapped back, and the two fought as they tumbled through the empty air.

I almost slapped both of them to get their attention. But my shrill voice was enough to distract them.

"WE'RE GONNA DIE!"

It took them a few seconds to pause and realize we were about to meet their demise at the grass below them. We screamed.

"I WISH I COULD FLY!" I screamed into the wind. We shut our eyes as we waited to slam the ground.

But the end never came.

We opened our eyes to find ourselves glowing turquoise. Dipper and me floated upright, and Gideon was upside down. In the light of the moon floated Mabel, her face set with a warrior-like scowl, levitating with the amulet in her right hand. She floated to the ground, and addressed Gideon.

"Listen Gideon. It's over. I will never, ever, date you."

"Yeah!" added Dipper in agreement. Mable dropped the three of us safely on the ground, and threw the amulet at a stone. It broke upon impact, and a turquoise skull cloud floated up as the remains of the amulet disappeared.

"My powers!" cried the fraudulent child prodigy. He stood and backed away.

"Oh, this isn't over," he vowed, his voice gradually morphing into a whisper. "This isn't the last you'll see of widdle ... ol' … _me_." He backed away into the forest behind him, and disappeared from view.

The twins just gave each other side glances, and I sighed, relief replacing the fear and adrenaline that had been coursing through me.

_Well, now is as good a time as ever to give her my full apology_. "Mabel," I addressed, reaching in my back pocket for my gift. "I'm sorry tha– "

"No, Iz," she replied stubbornly, and my heart sank. Sadly, I thought that she'd never hear me out. Which was why I was taken back when she said,"_I'm_ sorry."

"What? You lost me."

"I shouldn't be so angry with you. You didn't tell me how you felt because you didn't want to hurt my feelings. If you don't want to be friends with me anymore, than I won't try to make you feel guilty about it." She smiled regrettably at me. "I know now how _that_ feels."

I was speechless. I was certainly not expecting an apology from Mabel, and not one like this. I had to say something!

"But Mabel, I _do _want to be your friend! It's what I've been meaning to tell you all along! I just wanted to say that I'm sorry that I didn't hang out with you before when we should have. I _love_ being your summer sister, and to prove it," I felt for the box, and placed it in her hands, "I made you this."

The gift box had been crushed and the meticulously wrapped paper crumpled and torn. Good thing the gift inside wasn't fragile.

Mabel ripped the paper off, pulled the lid off the box, and gasped. She pulled out a pair of toe socks. They matched her shooting star sweater, with stars on the toes, and rainbow colors streaking along in tails behind them.

"I knitted them myself," I told her. "It was why I was hiding for the last couple of days. I hope that it makes up for all the time I lost not being your sister."

With almost a teary smile, she embraced me around my neck in a hug. I wrapped an arm around her. Dipper stood off to the side watching the sorrow and forgiveness play out. But I wrapped my other arm around his neck, and pulled him into the hug. He couldn't help but smile as his sisters repaired their bond, and returned our hug.

Our family was reunited.

DZZZ

Bud Gleeful was pleased with how business negotiations were going between him and Stanford Pines. Very pleased. He knew his son would be too.

He was seated in his recliner, pouring bottled water in a glass for himself. Stan was seated on the living room couch, signing a contract. He finished with an air of satisfaction.

"Ah, this is livin' brother." He took his glass of bottled water in hand, leaned back against the couch, and knocked his knuckles against the crying clown painting behind him.

"From now on it's all name brand foods and clown paintin's," agreed Bud. He and Stan clinked glasses, just as Gideon walked in.

"We-he-ll, hey Gideon," said his father. "Look who I – "

Gideon ignored him, storming right up to Stan, standing atop the coffee table between them. "Stanford Pines, I rebuke thee!" He clenched a fist for emphasis. "I rebuke thee!"

Stan sat there confused. "Rebuke? Is that a word?"

"The entire Pines' household has invoked my fury!" Gideon continued. "You will recompense for your transgressions!"

"What, you got a word-a-day calender or something?"

"Ap bap bap but – but sunshine?" Bud intervened with a nervous laugh. "What about our arrangement with Mabel and – "

"SILENCE!" his son snapped at him. He turned back to Stan with a murdering glare.

"Well, uh, I see that he's takin' to one of his _rages_ again. Eh, sorry Stan, I have to side with Gideon on this one." Bud obliged his son by taking the contract off the table and ripping it in two.

Stan watched regrettably as the agreement between them was destroyed, and stood up. "OK, OK, I can see when I'm not wanted." He turned to leave, but not before snatching something behind him. He wasn't leaving the deal with nothing.

"Stan," said Bud. "I'm-I'm sorry but I'm gonna need that paintin' back. Stan? Stan!"

"TRY AND CATCH ME, SUCKERS!" called Stan, running out of the house with the sad clown painting under his arm.

(X PXA ZILTK FP X MOBQQV PFDE) backwards a sad clown is a pretty sight

Back at the Shack, the twins lay out on the arm chair in the living room, Dipper and I bruised, and all of us exhausted. I took to faceplanting the living room floor.

Nearby, Stan hung up the clown painting, sighing sadly to himself. "I coulda had it all." He turned to us, and said, "What the heck happened to you three?"

"Gideon."

"Gideon."

"Gideon."

"Gideon," finished Stan with almost a growl in his tone. He sat himself on the dinosaur skull while I pulled myself into a sitting position.

"Yeah, the little mutant "swore vengeance" on the whole family," Stan continued. "Ha, I guess he gonna's try to nibble my ankles or somethin'."

"Oh, yeah," realized Dipper. "Yeah, how's he gonna destroy us _now_, huh? Try to guess what number we're thinking of?" he laughed.

"He'll _never_ guess what number _I'm_ thinking of," said Mabel. "Negative eight! No one would guess a negative number."

We all laughed. For my part, I was never gonna deal with mind readers or fortune-tellers again. I would never want to be like one of them. I was listening to my parents ideas from now on.

"Oooo, look out!" said Stan in mock fear. "He's planning our destruction right now." He sat down on top of the twins while they continued laughing. Then he gave me a noogy, messing my already unruly locks into tighter knots. But I was laughing so hard I couldn't care less.

"Oh no, my pompadour is ruined!" I said in a mock imitation of Gideon's voice. "The doves were building a nest there!"

This made the Pines laugh even more. Mabel was near tears, and Dipper was breathless.

The whole Shack was full of laughter on into the night.

ODXJKWBU LV WKH EHVW PHGLFLQH

Gideon sat in his room, a self-made diorama of the Mystery Shack on a desk, along with some freshly painted little dolls of the Pines family and their tenant. He finished painting the face on his Mabel doll, and walked her along the desk, and up to him.

"Gideon," he said in an imitation of Mabel's voice. "I still love you, if only my family weren't in the way."

He then popped the head of his Stan doll on, and said in an imitation of his voice, "Look at me. I'm old, and I'm smelly."

He squirted glue form a tube onto a doll head of Isannah and attached a patch of hair and tiny ponytail to it. "Oh, you can't get away with it forever," he said in an Isannah imitation. "'Cause I'm a tattletalin' goody-two-shoes."

He finished painting on Dipper's face, and in a dopey imitation of his voice, said "Hey, what are you gonna do without your precious amulet?

"Oh, you'll see, boy," he replied to the doll with an evil grin. He looked down at a page that featured a drawn picture of his former mystic amulet, and closed the cover of Journal 2.

"You'll see."

PHUUB FKULVWPDV!

"You done?" I asked Mabel.

"Not yet," she replied. She was rigging me up because she had fantastic idea. It would have worked better with a body type like Soos, but I wasn't complaining. This was a Mabel project I was more than willing to participate in. I felt that I was gonna have fun.

"How bout now?"

"Almost … and … there."

I turned around, the entire anterior side of my body covered in sequins. I figured that bedazzling her own face led to this idea, and I loved it. I was finally doing something fun with Mabel.

Dipper stood by with a flashlight in hand, and Mabel was poised by the light switch.

"Let's do this," I said with determination.

At my word, Mabel turned out the lights, Dipper flipped on the flashlight, and music played. I turned slowly in a circle, and the reflected light of the sequins danced around the room.

I had become a living disco ball.

Stan stood watching it all with obvious dislike.

"You're all fired."

FDUOD, ZKB ZRQ'W BRX FDOO PH?


End file.
